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THE LIBRARY 
OF THE x 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS | a 








COURT DRESS OF MILITARY OFFICIAL 


By 
LADY MURASAKI 


THE JAPANESE 
_ ARTHUR WALEY 


bp 


BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
1 Cambridge 





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(i Tw) ww +e 
M 33,5 \A) 





To 
BERYL DE ZOETE 


ea 586642 





PREFACE 


EADERS of the Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan, 
R’ translated by Madame Omori and Professor Doi, will 
remember that the second of the three diaries is that 

of a certain Murasaki Shikibu. The little that is known of this 
lady’s life has been set forth by Miss Amy Lowell in her Intro- 
duction to that book. A few dates, most of them very insecure, 
will be found in Appendix I of this volume. It is, however, 
certain that Murasaki was born in the last quarter of the tenth 
century, that she lost her husband in 1001, and that a few years 
later she became lady-in-waiting to the Empress Akiko. We 
know that she was chosen for this post on account of her pro- 
ficiency in Chinese, a subject which the young Empress was anx- 
ioustostudy. Akiko was then about sixteen, so that Murasaki’s 
position in the house was what, in our parlance, we should call 
that of ‘governess’ rather than of lady-in-waiting. Akiko, 
though officially espoused to the Emperor, was still living at 
home, and her father soon began to pay somewhat embarrassing 
attentions to the new governess. From the Diary we know that 
on one occasion at any rate his solicitations were refused. Was 
the Tale of Genji or any part of it already written when Murasaki 
came to Court? We only know that in a passage of the Diary 
which apparently refers to the year 1008 she speaks of her novel 
having been read out loud to the Emperor. His majesty’s 
comment (‘This is a learned lady; she must have been reading 
the Chronicle of Japan’) shows that what was read to him must 
have been the opening chapter of the tale. For in the whole 
work there is only one sentence which could possibly remind any 
one of the Nzhongi (‘Chronicle of Japan’), and that is the con- 
clusion of Chapter I. So though we may be certain that the first 
few books were already written in 1008, it is quite possible that 


8 PREFACE 


the whole fifty-four were not finished till long afterwards. But 
from the Sarashina Diary, the first of the three contained in the 
Court Ladies of Old Japan, we know that the Tale of Genji in its 
complete form was already a classic in the year 1022. The un- 
known authoress of this diary spent her childhood in a remote 
province. Her great pleasure was to read romances; but except 
at the Capital they were hard to come by. She prays fervently 
to Buddha to bring her quickly to KyGto, and let her read 
‘dozens and dozens of stories.’ In 1022 she at last arrives at 
Court and her wildest dreams are fulfilled. Packed in a big box 
her aunt sends round ‘the fifty-odd chapters of Genjz’ and a 
whole library of shorter fairy-tales and romances. ‘Are there 
really such people as this in the world? Were Genji my lover, 
though he should come to me but once in the whole year, how 
happy I should be! Or were I Lady Ukifune in her mountain 
home, gazing as the months go by at flowers, red autumn 
leaves, moonlight and snow; happy, despite loneliness and mis- 
fortune, in the thought that at any moment the wonderful 
letter might come... .’ 

Such were the réverzes of one who read the Tale of Genjz more 
than nine hundred years ago. I think that, could they but read 
it in the original, few readers would feel that in all those cen- 
turies the charm of the book had in any way evaporated. The 
task of translation in such a case is bound to be arduous and 
discouraging; but I have all the time been spurred by the belief 
that I am translating by far the greatest novel of the East, and 
one which, even if compared with the fiction of Europe, takes 
its place as one of the dozen greatest masterpieces of the world. 


CONTENTS 


PREFACE . . ° ° . . ° 


LIST OF MOST IMPORTANT PERSONS . 


GENEALOGICAL TABLES. : ; ; 
CHAPTER 
I. KIRITSUBO ; ; ‘ ‘ 
II. THE BROOM-TREE . Y : ‘ . 
III. UTSUSEMI. " ; ‘ ; ; ; 
Wek @UGAO 5. ‘ ; A : : : 


V. MURASAKI . : . ° 

VI. THE SAFFRON-FLOWER . . 

VII. THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 

VilI. THE FLOWER FEAST . . . : 
IX. AOI . ° ° . . = 


APPENDICES. . ° . 


PAGE 


II 


13 


17 
39 
81 
92 
135 
180 
211 
239 


250 





LIST OF MOST IMPORTANT PERSONS 


Aol, PRINCESS 
ASAGAO, PRINCESS 


EMPEROR, THE 
FUJITSUBO. 

GENJI, PRINCE 
HyosBuxky6, PRINCE 


Iyo No SUKE 
Ki No Kami. 


KIRITSUBO 

KOKIDEN 

KOREMITSU 

Lert, MINISTER OF THE 


MoMOZONO, PRINCE 
MURASAKI 


(ALPHABETICAL) 


Genji’s wife. 

Daughter of Prince Momozono. 
Courted in vain by Genji from his 
17th year onward. 

Genji’s father. 

The Emperor’s consort. Loved by 
Genji. Sister of Prince Hydbuky6 ; 
aunt of Murasaki. 

Son of the Emperor and his con- 
cubine Kiritsubo. 

Brother of Fujitsubo; father of 
Murasaki. 

Husband of Utsusemi. 

Son of Iyo no Kami, also called lyo 
no Suke. 

Concubine of the Emperor; Genji’s 
mother. 

The Emperor’s original consort ; later 
supplanted by  Kiritsubo and 
Fujitsubo successively. 

Genji’s retainer. 

Father of Aoi. 

Father of Princess Asagao. 

Child of Prince Hyébuky6. Adopted 
by Genji. Becomes his second 


wife. 
11 


12 


MyosBu . 


NOKIBA NO OGI 
OBOROZUKIYO, PRINCESS 


OmyoBu . 


RIGHT, MINISTER OF THE . 
RokuJjO, PRINCESS 


SHONAGON 


SUYETSUMUHANA, PRINCESS 


TO no CuHtjo 


UKON : 
UTSUSEMI 
YUGaAo 


THE TALE OF GENJI 


A young Court lady who introduces 
Genji to Princess Suyetsumuhana. 

Kino Kami’s sister. 

Sister of Kokiden. 

Fujitsubo’s maid. 

Father of Kokiden. 

Widow of the Emperor’s brother, 
Prince Zemb6. Genji’s mistress 
from his 17th year onward. 

Murasaki’s nurse. 


Daughter of Prince Hitachi. A 
timid and eccentric lady. 


Genji’s_ brother-in-law and _ great 

friend. 

Yuagao’s maid. 

Wife of the provincial governor, lyo 
no Suke. Courted by Genji. 

Mistress first of T6 no Chij6 then of 
Genji. Dies bewitched. 


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IDO ON WaIHON 


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THE TALE OF GENJI 





THE TALE OF GENJI 


CHAPTER I 
KIRITSUBO: 


T the Court of an Emperor (he lived it matters 
not when) there was among the many gentlewomen 


of the Wardrobe and Chamber one, who though 

she was not of very high rank was favoured far beyond 
all the rest; so that the great ladies of the Palace, each 
of whom had secretly hoped that she herself would 
be chosen, looked with scorn and hatred upon the upstart 
who had dispelled their dreams. Still less were her former 
companions, the minor ladies of the Wardrobe, content to 
see her raised so far above them. Thus her position at 
Court, preponderant though it was, exposed her to constant 
jealousy and ill will; and soon, worn out with petty 
vexations, she fell into a decline, growing very melancholy 
and retiring frequently to her home. But the Emperor, 
so far from wearying of her now that she was no longer 
well or gay, grew every day more tender, and paid not 
the smallest heed to those who reproved him, till his conduct 
became the talk of all the land; and even his own barons 
and courtiers began to look askance at an attachment 
so ill-advised. They whispered among themselves that 
in the Land Beyond the Sea such happenings had led to 
* This chapter should be read with indulgence. In it Murasaki, still 
under the influence of her somewhat childish predecessors, writes in a 
manner which is a blend of the Court chronicle with the conventional 


fairy-tale. 
2 17 





18 THE TALE OF GENJI 


riot and disaster. The people of the country did indeed 
soon have many grievances to show: and some likened 
her to Yang Kuei-fei, the mistress of Ming Huang.! 
Yet, for all this discontent, so great was the sheltering 
power of her master’s love that none dared openly 
molest her. 

Her father, who had been a Councillor, was dead. Her 
mother, who never forgot that the father was in his day 
a man of some consequence, managed despite all difficulties 
to give her as good an upbringing as generally falls to the 
lot of young ladies whose parents are alive and at the height 
of fortune. It would have helped matters greatly if there 
had been some influential guardian to busy himself on 
the child’s behalf. Unfortunately, the mother was entirely 
alone in the world and sometimes, when troubles came, she 
felt wery bitterly the lack of anyone to whom she could 
turn for comfort and advice. But to return to the daughter. 
In due time she bore him a little Prince who, perhaps 
because in some previous life a close bond had joined them, 
turned out as fine and likely a man-child as well might 
be in all the land. The Emperor could hardly contain 
himself during the days of waiting.2 But when, at the 
earliest possible moment, the child was presented at Court, 
he saw that rumour had not exaggerated its beauty. His 
eldest born prince was the son of Lady Kokiden, the 
daughter of the Minister of the Right, and this child was 
treated by all with the respect due to an undoubted Heir 
Apparent. But he was not so fine a child as the new 
prince; moreover the Emperor’s great affection for the 
new child’s mother made him feel the boy to be in a peculiar 
sense his own possession. Unfortunately she was not of 
the same rank as the courtiers who waited upon him in 


: Famous Emperor of the T‘ang dynasty in China; lived a.p. 685-762 
» The child of an Emperor could not be shown to him for several 
weeks after its birth. 


KIRITSUBO 19 


the Upper Palace, so that despite his love for her, and 
though she wore all the airs of a great lady, it was not 
without considerable qualms that he now made it his 
practice to have her by him not only when there was to 
be some entertainment, but even when any business of 
importance was afoot. Sometimes indeed he would keep 
her when he woke in the morning, not letting her go back 
to her lodging, so that willy-nilly she acted the part of 
a Lady-in-Perpetual-Attendance. 

Seeing all this, Lady Kokiden began to fear that the 
new prince, for whom the Emperor seemed to have so 
marked a preference, would if she did not take care soon 
be promoted to the Eastern Palace.t But she had, after 
all, priority over her rival; the Emperor had loved her 
devotedly and she had born him princes, It was even 
now chiefly the fear of her reproaches that made him 
uneasy about his new way of life. Thus, though his mis- 
tress could be sure of his protection, there were many 
who sought to humiliate her, and she felt so weak in 
herself that it seemed to her at last as though all the 
honours heaped upon her had brought with them terror 
rather than joy. 

Her lodging was in the wing called Kiritsubo. It was 
but natural that the many ladies whose doors she had to 
pass on her repeated journeys to the Emperor’s room should 
have grown exasperated; and sometimes, when these 
comings and goings became frequent beyond measure, it 
would happen that on bridges and in corridors, here or 
there along the way that she must go, strange tricks were 
played to frighten her or unpleasant things were left lying 
about which spoiled the dresses of the ladies who accom- 
panied her. Once indeed some one locked the door of a 


t I.e. be made Heir Apparent. 
2 She herself was of course carried in a litter. 


20 THE TALE OF GENJI 


portico, so that the poor thing wandered this way and 
that for a great while in sore distress. So many were the 
miseries into which this state of affairs now daily brought © 
her that the Emperor could no longer endure to witness 
her vexations and moved her to the Kordden. In order 
to make room for her he was obliged to shift the Chief 
Lady of the Wardrobe to lodgings outside. So far from 
improving matters he had merely procured her a new and 
most embittered enemy ! 

The young prince was now three years old. The Putting 
on of the Trousers was performed with as much ceremony 
as in the case of the Heir Apparent. Marvellous gifts 
flowed from the Imperial Treasury and Tribute House. 
This too incurred the censure of many, but brought no 
enmity to the child himself; for his growing beauty and 
the charm of his disposition were a wonder and delight 
to all who met him. Indeed many persons of ripe experience 
confessed themselves astounded that such a creature should 
actually have been born in these latter and degenerate 
days. 

In the summer of that year the lady became very 
downcast. She repeatedly asked for leave to go to her 
home, but it was not granted. For a year she continued — 
in the same state. The Emperor to all her entreaties 
answered only ‘Try for a little while longer.’ But she 
was getting worse every day, and when for five or six days 
she had been growing steadily weaker her mother sent to 
the Palace a tearful plea for her release. Fearing even now 
that her enemies might contrive to put some unimagin- 
able shame upon her, the sick lady left her son behind — 
and prepared to quit the Palace in secret. The Emperor 
knew that the time had come when, little as he liked it, 
he must let her go. But that she should slip away without 
a word of farewell was more than he could bear, and he — 


KIRITSUBO 21 


hastened to her side. He found her still charming and 
beautiful, but her face very thin and wan. She looked at 
him tenderly, saying nothing. Was she alive? So faint 
was the dwindling spark that she scarcely seemed so. 
Suddenly forgetting all that had happened and all that 
was to come, he called her by a hundred pretty names 
and weeping showered upon her a thousand caresses ; but 
she made no answer. For sounds and sights reached her 
but faintly, and she seemed dazed, as one that scarcely 
remembered she lay upon a bed. Seeing her thus he knew 
not what to do. In great trouble and perplexity he sent 
for a hand litter. But when they would have laid her in 
it, he forbad them, saying ‘ There was an oath between 
us that neither should go alone upon the road that all 
at last must tread. How can I now let her go from me?’ 
The lady heard him and ‘ At last!’ she said ; ‘ Though that 
desired at last be come, because I go alone how gladly would 
I live!’ 

Thus with faint voice and failing breath she whispered. 
But though she had found strength to speak, each word 
was uttered with great toil and pain. Come what might, 
the Emperor would have watched by her till the end, but 
that the priests who were to read the Intercession had 
already been dispatched to her home. She must be brought 
there before nightfall, and at last he forced himself to let 
the bearers carry her away. He tried to sleep but felt 
stifled and could not close his eyes. All night long messen- 
gers were coming and going between her home and the 
Palace. From the first they brought no good news, and 
soon after midnight announced that this time on arriving 
at the house they had heard a noise of wailing and lamen- 
tation, and learned from those within that the lady had 
just breathed her last. The Emperor lay motionless as 
though he had not understood. 


22 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Though his father was so fond of his company, it was 
thought better after this event that the Prince should go 
away from the Palace. He did not understand what had 
happened, but seeing the servants all wringing their hands 
and the Emperor himself continually weeping, he felt that 
it must have been something very terrible. He knew that 
even quite ordinary separations made people unhappy ; 
but here was such a dismal wailing and lamenting as he 
had never seen before, and he concluded that this must be 
some very extraordinary kind of parting. 

When the time came for the funeral to begin, the girl’s 
mother cried out that the smoke of her own body would be 
seen rising beside the smoke of her child’s bier. She rode 
in the same coach with the Court ladies who had come to 
the funeral. The ceremony took place at Atago and was 
celebrated with great splendour. ‘So overpowering was the 
mother’s affection that so long as she looked on the body 
she still thought of her child as alive. It was only when 
they lighted the pyre she suddenly realized that what lay 
upon it was a corpse. Then, though she tried to speak 
sensibly, she reeled and almost fell from the coach, and 
those with her turned to one another and said ‘ At last 
she knows.’ 

A herald came from the palace and read a proclamation 
which promoted the dead lady to the Third Rank. The 
reading of this long proclamation by the bier was a sad 
business. The Emperor repented bitterly that he had not 
long ago made her a Lady-in-Waiting, and that was why © 
he now raised her rank by one degree. There were many 
who grudged her even this honour ; but some less stubborn 
began now to recall that she had indeed been a lady of 
uncommon beauty ; and others, that she had very gentle 
and pleasing manners; while some went so far as to say 
it was a shame that anybody should have disliked so sweet — 


KIRITSUBO — 28 


a lady, and that if she had not been singled out unfairly 
from the rest, no one would have said a word against her. 

The seven weeks of mourning were, by the Emperor’s 
order, minutely observed. Time passed, but he still lived 
in rigid seclusion from the ladies of the Court. The servants 
who waited upon him had a sad life, for he wept almost 
without ceasing both day and night. 

Kokiden and the other great ladies were still relentless, 
and went about saying ‘it looked as though the Emperor 
would be no less foolishly obsessed by her memory than he 
had been by her person.’ He did indeed sometimes see 
Kokiden’s son, the first-born prince. But this only made 
him long the more to see the dead lady’s child, and he 
was always sending trusted servants, such as his own old 
nurse, to report to him upon the boy’s progress. The time 
of the autumn equinox had come. Already the touch of 
the evening air was cold upon the skin. So many memories 
crowded upon him that he sent a girl, the daughter of his 
quiver-bearer, with a letter to the dead lady’s house. It 
was beautiful moonlit weather, and after he had despatched 
the messenger he lingered for a while gazing out into the 
night. It was at such times as this that he had been wont 
to call for music. He remembered how her words, lightly 
whispered, had blended with those strangely fashioned 
harmonies, remembered how all was strange, her face, her 
air, her form. He thought of the poem which says that 
‘real things in the darkness seem no realer than dreams,’ 
and he longed for even so dim a substance as the dream- 
life of those nights. 

The messenger had reached the gates of the house. She 
pushed them back and a strange sight met her eyes. The 
old lady had for long been a widow and the whole charge of 
keeping the domain in repair had fallen upon her daughter. 
But since her death the mother, sunk in age and despair, 


24 THE TALE OF GENJI 


had done nothing to the place, and everywhere the weeds 
grew high ; and to all this desolation was added the wildness 
of the autumn gale. Great clumps of mugwort grew so 
thick that only the moonlight could penetrate them. The 
messenger alighted at the entrance of the house. At first 
the mother could find no words with which to greet her, 
but soon she said: ‘ Alas, I have lingered too long in the 
world! I cannot bear to think that so fine a messenger 
as you have pressed your way through the dewy thickets 
that bar the road to my house,’ and she burst into uncon- 
trollable weeping. Then the quiver-bearer’s daughter said 
‘One of the Palace maids who came here, told his Majesty 
that her heart had been torn with pity at what she saw. 
And I, Madam, am in like case.’ Then after a little 
hesitation she repeated the Emperor’s message: “ For a 
while I searched in the darkness of my mind, groping for 
an exit from my dream; but after long pondering I can 
find no way to wake. There is none here to counsel me. 
Will you not come to me secretly ? It is not well that the 
young prince should spend his days in so desolate and 
sad a place. Let him come too!”’ This he said and much 
else, but. confusedly and with many sighs; and I, seeing 
that the struggle to hide his grief from me was costing him 
dear, hurried away from the Palace without hearing all. 
But here is a letter that he sent.’ 

‘My sight is dim’ said the mother. ‘ Let me’hold His 
letter to the light.’ The letter said : 

‘I had thought that after a while there might be some 
blurring, some slight effacement. But no. As days and 
months go by, the more senseless, the more unendurable 
becomes my life. I am continually thinking of the child, 
_ wondering how he fares. I had hoped that his mother 
and I together would watch over his upbringing. Will 
you not take her place in this, and bring him to me as 


KIRITSUBO 25 


a memory of the past?’ Such was the letter, and many 
instructions were added to it together with a poem which 
said ‘ At the sound of the wind that binds the cold dew on 
Takagi moor, my heart goes out to the tender lilac stems.’ 

It was of the young prince that he spoke in symbol ; 
but she did not read the letter to the end. At last the 
mother said ‘Though 1 know that long life means only 
bitterness, I have stayed so long in the world that even 
before the Pine Tree of Takasago I should hide my head 
in shame. How then should I find courage to go hither 
and thither in the great Palace of a Hundred Towers ? 
Though the august summons should call me time and again, 
myself I could not obey. But the young prince (whether 
he may have heard the august wish I know not) is impatient 
to return, and, what is small wonder, seems very downcast 

in this place. Tell his Majesty this, and whatever else of 
my thoughts you have here learnt from me. For a little 
child this house is indeed a sorry place...’ ‘ They say 
that the child is asleep’ the quiver-bearer’s daughter 
answered. ‘I should like to have seen him and told the 
Emperor how he looks; but I am awaited at the Palace 
and it must be late.’ 

She was hastening away, but the mother: ‘Since even 
those who wander in the darkness of their own black thoughts 
can gain by converse a momentary beam to guide their 
steps, I pray you sometimes to visit me of your own accord 
and when you are at leisure. In years past it was at times 
of joy and triumph that you came to this house, and now 
this is the news you bring! Foolish are they indeed who 
trust to fortune! From the time she was born until his 
death, her father, who knew his own mind, would have it 
that she must go to Court and charged me again and again 
not to disappoint his wishes if he were to die. And so, 

though I thought that the lack of a guardian would bring 


~ 


26 THE TALE OF GENJI 


her into many difficulties, I was determined to carry out 
his desire. At Court she found that favours only too 
great were to be hers, and all the while must needs endure 
in secrecy the tokens of inhuman malice; till hatred had 
heaped upon her so heavy a load of cares that she died 
as it were murdered. Indeed, the love that in His wisdom 
He deigned to show her (or so sometimes it seems to me 
in the uncomprehending darkness of my heart) was crueller 
than indifference.’ 

So she spoke, till tears would let her speak no more ; 
and now the night had come. 

‘ All this’ the girl answered ‘ He himself has ay and 
further: ‘“‘ That thus against My will and judgment I 
yielded helplessly to a passion so reckless that it caused 
men’s eyes to blink was perhaps decreed for the very reason 
that our time was fated to be so short; it was the wild 
and vehement passion of those who are marked down for 
instant separation. And though I had vowed that none 
should suffer because of my love, yet in the end she bore 
upon her shoulders the heavy hatred of many who thought 
that for her sake they had been wronged.”’ 

‘So again and again have I heard the Emperor speak with 
tears. But now the night is far spent sn I must carry 
my message to the Palace before day comes.’ 

So she, weeping too, spoke as she hurried away. ‘But 
the sinking moon was shining in a cloudless sky, and in 
the grass-clumps that shivered in the cold wind, bell-crickets 
tinkled their compelling cry. It was hard to leave these 
grass-clumps, and the quiver-bearer’s daughter, loth to 
ride away, recited the poem which says ‘ Ceaseless as the 
interminable voices of the bell-cricket, all night till dawn 
my tears flow.’ The mother answered ‘ Upon the thickets 
that teem with myriad insect voices falls the dew of a 
Cloud Dweller’s tears’; for the people of the Court are 


KIRITSUBO 27 


called dwellers above the clouds. Then she gave the messenger 
a sash, a comb and other things that the dead lady had left 
in her keeping,—gifts from the Emperor which now, since 
their use was gone, she sent back to him as mementoes of 
the past. The nurse-maids who had come with the boy 
were depressed not so much at their mistress’s death as 
at being suddenly deprived of the daily sights and sensations 
of the Palace. They begged to go back at once. But the 
mother was determined not to go herself, knowing that she 
would cut too forlorn a figure. On the other hand if she 
parted with the boy, she would be daily in great anxiety 
about him. That was why she did not immediately either 
go with him herself or send him to the Palace. 

The quiver-bearer’s daughter found the Emperor still 
awake. He was, upon pretext of visiting the flower-pots 
in front of the Palace which were then in full bloom, waiting 
for her out of doors, while four or five trusted ladies conversed 
with him. 

At this time it was his wont to examine morning and 
evening a picture of The Everlasting Wrong, the text 
written by Teiji no In,? with poems by Ise3 and Tsurayuki,4 
both in Yamato speech, and in that of the men beyond the 
sea, and the story of this poem was the common matter 
of his talk. 

Now he turned to the messenger and asked eagerly for 
all her news. And when she had given him a secret and 
faithful account of the sad place whence she had come, 
she handed him the mother’s letter : ‘ His Majesty’s gracious 
commands [ read with reverence deeper than I can express, 
but their purport has brought great darkness and confusion 


t A poem by the Chinese writer Po Chi-i about the death of Yang 
Kuei-fei, favourite of the Emperor Ming Huang. See Giles, Chinese 
Literature, p. 169. 

2 Name of the Emperor Uda after his retirement in a.D. 897. 

3 Poetess, gth century. 

¢ Famous poet, 883-946 A.D. 


28 THE TALE OF GENJI 


to my mind.’ All this, together with a poem in which she 
compared her grandchild to a flower which has lost the 
tree that sheltered it from the great winds, was so wild 
and so ill-writ as only to be suffered from the hand of one 
whose sorrow was as yet unhealed. 

Again the Emperor strove for self-possession in the 
presence of his messenger. But as he pictured to himself 
the time when the dead lady first came to him, a thousand 
memories pressed thick about him, and recollection linked 
to recollection carried him onward, till he shuddered to 
think how utterly unmarked, unheeded all these hours 
and days had fled. 

At last he said ‘I too thought much and with delight 
how with most profit might be fulfilled the wish that her 
father the Councillor left behind him ; but of that no more. 
If the young Prince lives occasion may yet be found... 
It is for his long life that we must pray.’ 

He looked at the presents she had brought back and 
‘Would that like the wizard you had brought a kingfisher- 
hairpin as token of your visit to the place where her spirit 
dwells’ he cried, and recited the poem: Oh for a master 
of magic who might go and seek her, and by a message teach 
me where her spirit dwells. 

For the picture of Isuei-fei, skilful though the painter 
might be, was but the work of a brush, and had no living 
fragrance. And though the poet tells us that Kuei-fei’s 
grace was as that of ‘ the hibiscus of the Royal Lake or 
the willows of the Wei-yang Palace,’ the lady in the picture 
was all paint and powder and had a simpering Chinesified air. 

But when he thought of the lost lady’s voice and form, 
he could find neither in the beauty of flowers nor in the 
song of birds any fit comparison. Continually he pined 
that fate should not have allowed them to fulfil the vow 
which morning and evening was ever talked of between 


KIRITSUBO 99 


them,—the vow that their lives should be as the twin 
birds that share a wing, the twin trees that share a bough. 
The rustling of the wind, the chirping of an insect would 
cast him into the deepest melancholy ; and now Kokiden, 
who for a long while had not been admitted to his chamber, 
must needs sit in the moonlight making music far on into 
the night! This evidently distressed him in the highest 
degree and those ladies and courtiers who were with him 
were equally shocked and distressed on his behalf. But 
the offending lady was one who stood much upon her 
dignity and she was determined to behave as though nothing 
of any consequence had taken place in the Palace. 

And now the moon had set. The Emperor thought of 
the girl’s mother in the house amid the thickets and won- 
dered, making a poem of the thought, with what feelings 
she had watched the sinking of the autumn moon: ‘* for 
even we Men above the Clouds were weeping when it sank.’ 

He raised the torches high in their sockets and still sat 
up. But at last he heard voices coming from the Watch 
House of the Right and knew that the hour of the Bull! 
had struck. Then, lest he should be seen, he went into 
his chamber. He found he could not sleep and was up 
before daybreak. But, as though he remembered the 
words “ he knew not the dawn was at his window’ of Ise’s 
poem,” he showed little attention to the affairs of his Morning 
Audience, scarcely touched his dried rice and seemed but 
dimly aware of the viands on the great Table, so that the | 
carvers and waiting-men groaned to see their Master’s 
plight ; and all his servants, both men and women kept 
on whispering to one another ‘ What a senseless occupation 
has ours become!’ and supposed that he was obeying 
some extravagant vow. | 


1 I a.m. 
2 A poem by Lady Ise written on a picture illustrating Po Chii-i’s 
Everlasting Wrong. 


30 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Regardless of his subjects’ murmurings, he continually 
allowed his mind to wander from their affairs to his own, 
so that the scandal of his negligence was now as dangerous 
to the State as it had been before, and again there began 
to be whispered references to a certain Emperor of another 
land. Thus the months and days passed, and in the end 
the young prince arrived at Court. He had grown up to 
be a child of unrivalled beauty and the Emperor was 
delighted with him. In the spring an heir to the Throne 
was to be proclaimed and the Emperor was sorely tempted 
to pass over the first-born prince in favour of the young 
child. But there was no one at Court to support such a 
choice and it was unlikely that it would be tolerated by 
the people ; it would indeed bring danger rather than glory 
to the child. So he carefully concealed from the world 
that he had any such design, and gained great credit, men 
saying “ Though he dotes on the boy, there is at least 
some limit to his folly.’ And even the great ladies of the 
Palace became a little easier in their minds. 

The grandmother remained inconsolable, and impatient 
to set out upon her search for the place where the dead 
lady’s spirit dwelt, she soon expired. Again the Emperor 
was in great distress; and this time the boy, being now 
six years old, understood what had happened and wept 
bitterly. And often he spoke sadly of what he had seen 
when he was brought to visit the poor dead lady who had 
for many years been so kind to him. MHenceforward he 
lived always at the Palace. When he became seven he 
began to learn his letters, and his quickness was so unusual 
that his father was amazed. Thinking that now no one 
would have the heart to be unkind to the child, the Emperor 
began to take him to the apartments of Kdkiden and the 
rest, saying to them ‘ Now that his mother is dead I know 
that you will be nice to him.’ Thus the boy began to 


KIRITSUBO 31 


penetrate the Royal Curtain. The roughest soldier, the 
bitterest foeman could not have looked on such a child 
without a smile, and Kokiden did not send him away. 
She had two daughters who were indeed not such fine 
children as the little prince. He also played with the Court 
Ladies, who, because he was now very pretty and bashful 
in his ways, found endless amusement, as indeed did everyone 
else, in sharing his games. As for his serious studies, he 
soon learnt to send the sounds of zithern and flute flying 
gaily to the clouds. But if I were to tell you of all his 
accomplishments, you would think that he was soon going 
to become a bore. 

At this time some Koreans came to Court and among 
them a fortune-teller. Hearing this, the Emperor did not 
send for them to come to the Palace, because of the law 
against the admission of foreigners which was made by the 
Emperor Uda. But in strict secrecy he sent the Prince 
to the Strangers’ quarters. He went under the escort of 
the Secretary of the Right, who was to introduce him as 
his own son. The fortune teller was astonished by the 
boy’s lineaments and expressed his surprise by continually 
nodding his head: ‘ He has the marks of one who might 
become a Father of the State, and if this were his fate, he 
would not stop short at any lesser degree than that of 
Mighty King and Emperor of all the land. But when I 
look again—I see that confusion and sorrow would attend 
his reign. But should he become a great Officer of State 
and Counsellor of the Realm I see no happy issue, for he 
would be defying those kingly signs of which I spoke 
before.’ 

The Secretary was a most talented, wise and learned 
scholar, and now began to conduct an interesting con- 
versation with the fortune teller. They exchanged essays 


t Reigned 889-897. The law in question was made in 894. 


32 THE TALE OF GENJI 


and poems, and the fortune-teller made a little speech, 
saying ‘It has been a great pleasure to me on the eve of 
my departure to meet with a man of capacities so unusual ; 
and though I regret my departure I shall now take away 
most agreeable impressions of my visit.’ The little prince 
presented him with a very nice verse of poetry, at which 
he expressed boundless admiration and offered the boy a 
number of handsome presents. In return the Emperor 
sent him a large reward from the Imperial Treasury. This 
was all kept strictly secret. But somehow or other the 
Heir Apparent’s grandfather, the Minister of the Right, 
and others of his party got wind of it and became very 
suspicious. The Emperor then sent for native fortune- 
tellers and made trial of them, explaining that because of 
certain signs which he had himself observed he had hitherto 
refrained from making the boy a prince. With one accord 
they agreed that he had acted with great prudence and the 
Emperor determined not to set the child adrift upon the 
world as a prince without royal standing or influence upon 
the mother’s side. For he thought ‘My own power is 
very insecure. I had best set him to watch on my behalf 
over the great Officers of State.’ Thinking that he had 
thus agreeably settled the child’s future, he set seriously to 
work upon his education, and saw to it that he should be 
made perfect in every branch of art and knowledge. He 
showed such aptitude in all his studies that it seemed a 
pity he should remain a commoner and as it had been 
decided that it would arouse suspicion if he were made a 
prince, the Emperor consulted with certain doctors wise 
in the lore of the planets and phases of the moon. And 
they with one accord recommended that he should be made 
a Member of the Minamoto (or Gen) Clan. So this was 
done. As the years went by the Emperor did not forget 
his lost lady ; and though many women were brought to 


KIRITSUBO 33 


the Palace in the hope that he might take pleasure in them, 
he turned from them all, believing that there was not 
in the world any one like her whom he had lost. There 
was at that time a lady whose beauty was of great repute. 
She was the fourth daughter of the previous Emperor, and 
it was said that her mother, the Dowager Empress, had 
brought her up with unrivalled care. A certain Dame of 
the Household, who had served the former Emperor, was 
intimately acquainted with the young Princess, having 
known her since childhood and still having occasion to 
observe her from without. ‘I have served in three courts’ 
said the Dame ‘and in all that time have seen none who 
could be likened to the departed lady, save the daughter 
of the Empress Mother. She indeed is a lady of rare beauty.’ 
So she spoke to the Emperor, and he, much wondering 
what truth there was in it, listened with great attention. 
The Empress Mother heard of this with great alarm, for 
she remembered with what open cruelty the sinister Lady 
Kokiden had treated her former rival, and though she did 
not dare speak openly of her fears, she was managing to 
delay the girl’s presentation, when suddenly she died. 

The Emperor, hearing that the bereaved Princess was 
in a very desolate condition, sent word gently telling her 
that he should henceforward look upon her as though she 
were one of the Lady Princesses his daughters. Her servants 
and guardians and her brother, Prince Hydbuky6, thought 
that life in the Palace might distract her and would at 
least be better than the gloomy desolation of her home, 
and so they sent her to the Court. She lived in apartments 
called Fujitsubo (Wistaria Tub) and was known by this 
name. The Emperor could not deny that she bore an 
astonishing resemblance to his beloved. She was however 
of much higher rank, so that everyone was anxious to please 
her, and, whatever happened, they were prepared to grant 


34 THE TALE OF GENJI 


her the utmost licence: whereas the dead lady had been 
imperilled by the Emperor’s favour only because the Court 
was not willing to accept her. 

His old love did not now grow dimmer, and though he 
sometimes found solace and distraction in shifting his 
thoughts from the lady who had died to the lady who was 
so much like her, yet life remained for him a sad business. 

Genji (‘ he of the Minamoto clan ’), as he was now called, 
was constantly at the Emperor’s side. He was soon quite 
at his ease with the common run of Ladies in Waiting and 
Ladies of the Wardrobe, so it was not likely he would be » 
shy with one who was daily summoned to the Emperor’s 
apartments. It was but natural that all these ladies should 
vie eagerly with one another for the first place in Genji’s — 
affections, and there were many whom in various ways 
he admired very much. But most of them behaved in 
too grown-up a fashion; only one, the new princess, was 
pretty and quite young as well, and though she tried to 
hide from him, it was inevitable that they should often 
meet. He could not remember his mother, but the Dame 
of the Household had told him how very like to her the 
girl was, and this interested his childish fancy, and he 
would like to have been her great friend and lived with her 
always. One day the Emperor said to her “Do not be 
unkind to him. He is interested because he has heard 
that you are so like his mother. Do not think him imper- 
tinent, but behave nicely to him. You are indeed so like 
him in look and features that you might well be his mother.’ 

And so, young though he was, fleeting ‘beauty took its © 
hold upon his thoughts ; he felt his first clear predilection. 

Kokiden had never loved this lady too well, and now her > 
old enmity to Genji sprang up again; her own children 
were reckoned to be of quite uncommon beauty, but in 
this they were no match for Genji, who was so lovely a 


KIRITSUBO 35 


boy that people called him Hikaru Genji or Genji the Shining 
One; and Princess Fujitsubo, who also had many admirers, 
was called Princess Glittering Sunshine. 

Though it seemed a shame to put so lovely a child into 
man’s dress, he was now twelve years old and the time for 
_his Initiation was come. The Emperor directed the pre- 
parations with tireless zeal and insisted upon a magnificence 
beyond what was prescribed. The Initiation of the Heir 
Apparent, which had last year been celebrated in the 
Southern Hall, was not a whit more splendid in its prepara- 
tions. The ordering of the banquets that were to be given 
in various quarters, and the work of the Treasurer and 
Grain Intendant he supervised in person, fearing lest the 
officials should be remiss ; and in the end all was perfection. 
The ceremony took place in the eastern wing of the 
Emperor's own apartments, and the Throne was placed 
facing towards the east, with the seats of the Initiate to-be 
and his Sponsor (the Minister of the Left) in front. 

Genji arrived at the hour of the Monkey.t He looked 
very handsome with his long childish locks, and the Sponsor, 
whose duty it had just been to bind them with the purple 
_ filet, was sorry to think that all this would soon be changed 
and even the Clerk of the Treasury seemed loath to sever 
those lovely tresses with the ritual knife. The Emperor, 
as he watched, remembered for a moment what pride the 
mother would have taken in the ceremony, but soon drove 
the weak thought from his mind. 

Duly crowned, Genji went to his chamber and changing 
‘into man’s dress went down into the courtyard and per- 
formed the Dance of Homage, which he did with such grace 
that tears stood in every eye. And now the Emperor, 
whose grief had of late grown somewhat less insistent, 
was again overwhelmed by memories of the past. 


13pm, 


36 THE TALE OF GENJI 


It had been feared that his delicate features would show 
to less advantage when he had put aside his childish dress ; 
but on the contrary he looked handsomer than ever. 

His sponsor, the Minister of the Left, had an only daughter 
whose beauty the Heir Apparent had noticed. But now 
the father began to think he would not encourage that match, 
but would offer her to Genji. He sounded the Emperor 
upon this, and found that he would be very glad to obtain 
for the boy the advantage of so powerful a connection. 

When the courtiers assembled to drink the Love Cup, 
Genji came and took his place among the other princes. 
The Minister of the Left came up and whispered something 
in his ear; but the boy blushed and could think of no reply. 
A chamberlain now came over to the Minister and brought 
him a summons to wait upon His Majesty immediately. 
When he arrived before the Throne, a Lady of the Wardrobe 
handed to him the Great White Inner Garment and the 
Maid’s Skirt,! which were his ritual due as Sponsor to the 
Prince. Then, when he had made him drink out of the 
Royal Cup, the Emperor recited a poem in which he prayed 
that the binding of the purple filet might symbolize the 
union of their two houses; and the Minister answered him 
that nothing should sever this union save the fading of the 
purple band. Then he descended the long stairs and from 
the courtyard performed the Grand Obeisance.? Here too 
were shown the horses from the Royal Stables and the 
hawks from the Royal Falconry, that had been decreed 
as presents for Genji. At the foot of the stairs the Princes 
and Courtiers were lined up to receive their bounties, and 
gifts of every kind were showered upon them. That day 
the hampers and fruit baskets were distributed in accordance 
with the Emperor’s directions by the learned Secretary of 


t These symbolized the unmanly life of childhood which Genji had 
now put behind him. 
2 The butd, a form of kowtow so elaborate as to be practically a dance. 


KIRITSUBO 37 


the Right, and boxes of cake and presents lay about so 
thick that one could scarcely move. Such profusion had 
not been seen even at the Heir Apparent’s Initiation. 

That night Genji went to the Minister’s house, where his 
betrothal was celebrated with great splendour. It was 
thought that the little Prince looked somewhat childish 
and delicate, but his beauty astonished everyone. Only 
the bride, who was four years older, regarded him as-a 
mere baby and was rather ashamed of him. 

The Emperor still demanded Genji’s attendance at the 
Palace, so he did not set up a house of his own. In his 
inmost heart he was always thinking how much nicer 
she* was than anyone else, and only wanted to be with 
people who were like her, but alas no one was the least 
like her. Everyone seemed to make a great deal of fuss 
about Princess Aoi, his betrothed ; but he could see nothing 
nice about her. The girl at the Palace now filled all his 
childish thoughts and this obsession became a misery to him. 

Now that he was a ‘man’ he could no longer frequent 
the women’s quarters as he had been wont to do. But 
sometimes when an entertainment was a-foot he found 
comfort in hearing her voice dimly blending with the sound 
of zithern or flute and felt his grown-up existence to be 
-unendurable. After an absence of five or six days he 
would occasionally spend two or three at his betrothed’s 
house. His father-in-law attributing this negligence to 
his extreme youth was not at all perturbed and always 
received him warmly. Whenever he came the most 
interesting and agreeable of the young people of the day | 
were asked to meet him and endless trouble was taken in 
arranging games to amuse him. 

The Shigeisa, one of the rooms which had belonged to 
his mother, was allotted to him as his official quarters in 


t Fujitsubo. 


38 THE TALE OF GENJI 


the Palace, and the servants who had waited on her were 
now gathered together again and formed his suite. His 
grandmother’s house was falling into decay. The Imperial 
Office of Works was ordered to repair it. The grouping of 
the trees and disposition of the surrounding hills had always 
made the place delightful. Now the basin of the lake was 
widened and many other improvements were carried out. 
‘If only I were going to live here with someone whom I 
liked,’ thought Genji sadly. 

Some say that the name of Hikaru the Shining One was 
given to him in admiration by the Korean fortune-teller.* 

1 This touch is reminiscent of early chronicles such as the Nihongi, 


which delight in alternative explanations. In the subsequent chapters 
such archaisms entirely disappear. 


oe 
— = 


CHAPTER Ii 
THE BROOM-TREE 


ENJI the Shining One...He knew that the 

bearer of such a name could not escape much 

scrutiny and jealous censure and that his lightest 
dallyings would be proclaimed to posterity. Fearing then 
lest he should appear to after ages as a mere good-for- 
nothing and trifler, and knowing that (so accursed is the 
blabbing of gossips’ tongues) his most secret acts might 
come to light, he was obliged always to act with great 
prudence and to preserve at least the outward appear- 
ance of respectability. Thus nothing really romantic ever 
happened to him and Katano no Shdshé: would have 
scoffed at his story. 

While he was still a Captain of the Guard and was spending 
most of his time at the Palace, his infrequent visits to the 
Great Hall? were taken as a sign that some secret passion 
had made its imprint on his heart. But in reality the 
frivolous, commonplace, straight-ahead amours of his 
companions did not in the least interest him, and it was 
a curious trait in his character that when on rare occasions, 
despite all resistance, love did gain a hold upon him, it 
was always in the most improbable and hopeless entangle- 
ment that he became involved. 


1 The hero of a lost popular romance. It is also referred to by 
Murasaki’s contemporary Sei Shénagon in Chapter 145 of her Makura 
no Soshi. 

4 His father-in-law’s house, where his wife Princess Aoi still continued 


to live. 
39 


40 THE TALE OF GENJI 


It was the season of the long rains. For many days 
there had not been a fine moment and the Court was keeping 
a strict fast. The people at the Great Hall were becoming 
very impatient of Genji’s long residence at the Palace, 
but the young lords, who were Court pages, liked waiting 
upon Genji better than upon anyone else, always managing 


to put out his clothes and decorations in some marvellous . 


new way. Among these brothers his greatest friend was 
the Equerry, T6 no Chij6, with whom above all other 
companions of his playtime he found himself familiar and 
at ease. This lord too found the house which his father- 
in-law, the Minister of the Right, had been at pains to 


build for him, somewhat oppressive, while at his father’s, 


house he, like Genji, found the splendours somewhat dazzling, 
so that he ended by becoming Genji’s constant companion 
at Court. They shared both studies and play and were 
inseparable companions on every sort of occasion, so that 
soon all formalities were dispensed with between them and 
the inmost secrets of their hearts freely exchanged. 

It was on a night when the rain never ceased its dismal 
downpour. There were not many people about in the 
palace and Genji’s rooms seemed even quieter than usual. 
He was sitting by the lamp, looking at various books and 


papers. Suddenly he began pulling some letters out of — 


the drawers of a desk which stood near by. This aroused 
To no Chijo’s curiosity. ‘Some of them I can show to 
you’ said Genji, ‘ but there are others which I had rather 
* “Tt is just those which I want to see. Ordinary, 
commonplace letters are very much alike and I do not 
suppose that yours differ much from mine. What I want 
to see are passionate letters written in moments of resent- 
ment, letters hinting consent, letters written at dusk... ’ 
He begged so eagerly that Genji let him examine the 
drawers. It was not indeed likely that he had put any 


% 


F 


* 


THE BROOM-TREE 4) 


very important or secret documents in the ordinary desk ; 
he would have hidden them away much further from sight. 
So he felt sure that the letters in these drawers would be 
nothing to worry about. After turning over a few of them, 
‘What an astonishing variety!’ To no Chijo exclaimed 
and began guessing at the writers’ names, and made one 
_or two good hits. More often he was wrong and Genji, 
amused by his puzzled air, said very little but generally 
managed to lead him astray. At last he took the letters 
back, saying ‘ But you too must have a large collection. 
Show me some of yours, and my desk will open to you with 
better will.’ ‘I have none that you would care to see,’ 
_ said T6 no Chij6, and he continued: ‘I have at last dis- 
covered that there exists no woman of whom one can say 
““ Here is perfection. This is indeed she.”” There are many 
who have the superficial art of writing a good running hand, 
or if occasion requires of making a quick repartee. But 
there are few who will stand the ordeal of any further test. 
Usually their minds are entirely occupied by admiration 
for their own accomplishments, and their abuse of all 
rivals creates a most unpleasant impression. Some again 
are adored by over-fond parents. These have been since 
childhood guarded behind lattice windows? and no know- 
ledge of them is allowed to reach the outer-world, save that 
_ of their excellence in some accomplishment or art ; and this 
may indeed sometimes arouse our interest. J She is pretty 
and graceful and has not yet mixed at all with the world. 
Such a girl by closely copying some model and applying 
herself with great industry will often succeed in really 
mastering one of the minor and ephemeral arts. Her 

1 Japanese houses were arranged somewhat differently from ours and 
for many of the terms which constantly recur in this book (kiché, sudare, 
sunoko, etc.) no exact English equivalents can be found. In such cases 


I have tried to use expressions which without being too awkward or 
unfamiliar will give an adequate general idea of what is meant, 


42 THE TALE OF GENJI 


friends are careful to say nothing of her defects and to 
exaggerate her accomplishments, and while we cannot 
altogether trust their praise we cannot believe that their 
judgment is entirely astray. But when we take steps to 
test their statements we are invariably disappointed.’ 

He paused, seeming to be slightly ashamed of the cynical 
tone which he had adopted, and added ‘ I know my exper- 
ience is not large, but that is the conclusion I have come 
to so far.” Then Genji, smiling: ‘ And are there any who 
lack even one accomplishment ?’ ‘ No doubt, but in such 
a case it is unlikely that anyone would be successfully 
decoyed. The number of those who have nothing to 
recommend them and of those in whom nothing but good 
can be found is probably equal. I divide women into three 
_» Classes. Those of high rank and birth are made such a 
| fuss of and their weak points are so completely concealed 
that we are certain to be told that they are paragons. 
About those of the middle class everyone is allowed to 
| express his own opinion, and we shall have much conflicting 
_ evidence to sift. As for the lower classes, they do not 
| concern us.’ , 

The completeness with which T6 no Chij6 disposed of 
the question amused Genji, who said ‘ It will not always 
be so easy to know into which of the three classes a woman 
ought to be put. For sometimes people of high rank sink 
to the most abject positions; while others of common 
birth rise to be high officers, wear self-important faces, 
redecorate the inside of their houses and think themselves 
as good as anyone. How are we to deal with such cases ?’ _ 

At this moment they were joined by Hidari no Uma no 
Kami and To Shikibu no Jé, who said they had also come 
to the Palace to keep the fast. As both of them were 
great lovers and good talkers, T6 no Chij6 handed over to 
them the decision of Genji’s question, and in the discussion 


¢ 


THE BROOM-TREE 43 


which followed many unflattering things were said. Uma 
no Kami spoke first. ‘ However high a lady may rise, if 
she does not come of an adequate stock, the world will 
think very differently of her from what it would of one born 
to such honours; but if through adverse fortune a lady 
of highest rank finds herself in friendless misery, the noble 
breeding of her mind is soon forgotten and she becomes an 
object of contempt. I think then that taking all things 
into account, we must put such ladies too into the “‘ middle 
class.” But when we come to classify the daughters of 
Zury6o,' who are sent to labour at the affairs of distant 
provinces,—they have such ups and downs that we may 
reasonably put them too into the middle class. 

‘Then there are Ministers of the third and fourth classes 
without Cabinet rank. These are generally thought less of 
even than the humdrum, ordinary officials. They are 
usually of quite good birth, but have much less respon- 
sibility than Ministers of State and consequently much 
greater peace of mind. Girls born into such households 
are brought up in complete security from want or depriva- 
tion of any kind, and indeed often amid surroundings of 
the utmost luxury and splendour. Many of them grow up 
into women whom it would be folly to despise ; some have 
been admitted at Court, where they have enjoyed a quite 
unexpected success. And of this I could cite many, many 
instances.’ 

“Their success has generally been due to their having 
a lot of money,’ said Genji smiling. ‘ You should have 
- known better than to say that,’ said T6 no Chijo, reproving 
him, and Uma no Kami went on: ‘ There are some whose 
lineage and reputation are so high that it never occurs to 
one that their education could possibly be at fault; yet 
when we meet them, we find ourselves exclaiming in 


t Provincial officials. Murasaki herself came of this class. 


ee 

oe eS 

Q es re 
Aha e° > 


“3 
Tt ae 
f 


Nee, 


w 


{ 

4 

\ 
; 


f 
j 


44 THE TALE OF GENJI 


despair ‘‘ How can they have contrived to grow up like 
this ?”’ 

‘No doubt the perfect woman in whom none of those 
essentials is lacking must somewhere exist and it would 
not startle me to find her. But she would certainly be 
beyond the reach of a humble person like myself, and for 
that reason I should like to put her in a category of her 
own and not to count her in our present classification. 

‘But suppose that behind some gateway overgrown with 
vine-weed, in a place where no one knows there is a house 
at all, there should be locked away some creature of 
unimagined beauty—with what excitement should we 
discover her! The complete surprise of it, the upsetting 
of all our wise theories and classifications, would be likely, 
I think, to lay a strange and sudden enchantment upon us. 
I imagine her father rather large and gruff; her brother, 
a surly, ill-looking fellow. Locked away in an utterly 
blank and uninteresting bed-room she will be subject to 
odd flights of fancy, so that in her hands the arts that 
others learn as trivial accomplishments will seem strangely 
full of meaning and importance ; or perhaps in some par- 
ticular art she will thrill us by her delightful and unexpected 
mastery. Such a one may perhaps be beneath the attention 
of those of you who are of flawless lineage. But for my 
part I find it hard to banish her . . . ’ and here he looked 
at Shikibu no J6, who wondered whether the description 
had been meant to apply to his own sisters, but said nothing. 
‘If it is difficult to choose even out of the top class... ’ 


thought Genji, and began to doze. 


He was dressed in a suit of soft white silk, with’ a rough 
cloak carelessly slung over his shoulders, with belt and 
fastenings untied. In the light of the lamp against which 


_ he was leaning he looked so lovely that one might have 
‘wished he were a girl; and they thought that even Uma 


THE BROOM-TREE 45 


no Kami’s ‘ perfect woman,’ whom he had placed in a » 
category of her own, would not be worthy of such a prince 
as Genji. 

The conversation went on. Many persons and things 
were discussed. Uma no Kami contended that perfection 
is equally difficult to find in other spheres. The sovereign 
is hard put to it to choose his ministers. But he at least 
has an easier task than the husband, for he does not entrust 
the affairs of his kingdom to one, two or three persons 
alone, but sets up a whole system of superiors and sub- 
ordinates. 

But when the mistress of a house is to be selected, a 
single individual must be found who will combine in her 
person many diverse qualities. It will not do to be too 
exacting. Let us be sure that the lady of our choice 
possesses certain tangible qualities which we admire; and 
if in other ways she falls short of our ideal, we must be 
patient and call to mind those qualities which first induced 
us to begin our courting. 

But even here we must beware; for there are some who 
in the selfishness of youth and flawless beauty are deter- 
mined that not a dust-flick shall fall upon them. In their 
letters they choose the most harmless topics, but yet contrive . 
to colour the very texture of the written signs with a 
tenderness that vaguely disquiets us. But such a one, | 
when we have at last secured a meeting, will speak so low a 
that she can scarcely be heard, and the few faint sentences 
that she murmurs beneath her breath serve only to make 
her more mysterious than before. All this may seem to be 
the pretty shrinking of girlish modesty ; but we may later 
find that what held her back was the very violence of her 
passions. 4 

Or again, where all seems plain sailing, the Sarat com- 
panion will turn out to be too impressionable and will _ 


46 THE TALE OF GENJI 


upon the most inappropriate occasions display her affections. 
in so ludicrous a way that we begin to wish ourselves rid 
of her. 

Then there is the zealous house-wife, who regardless of | 
her appearance twists her hair behind her ears and devotes 
herself entirely to the details of our domestic welfare. 
The husband, in his comings and goings about the world, 
is certain to see and hear many things which he cannot 
discuss with strangers, but would gladly talk over with 
an intimate who could listen with sympathy and under- 
standing, someone who could laugh with him or weep if 
need be. It often happens too that some political event 
will greatly perturb or amuse him, and he sits apart longing 
to tell someone about it. He suddenly laughs at some 
secret recollection or sighs audibly. But the wife only 

_ says lightly ‘ What is the matter ? ’ and shows no interest. 
. This is apt to be very trying. 


“. Uma no Kami considered several other cases. But he 


reached no definite conclusion and sighing deeply he con- 
tinued: ‘ We will then, as I have suggested, let birth and 
beauty go by the board. Let her be the simplest and most 
guileless of creatures so long as she is honest and of a 
peaceable disposition, that in the end we may not lack a place 
of trust. And if some other virtue chances to be hers we 
shall treasure it as a godsend. But if we discover in her 
some small defect, it shall not be too closely scrutinized. 
And we may be sure that if she is strong in the virtues 
of tolerance and amiability her outward appearance will 
not be beyond measure harsh. 

“There are those who carry forbearance too far, and 
affecting not to notice wrongs which cry out for redress 
seem to be paragons of misused fidelity. But suddenly 
a time comes when such a one can restrain herself no longer, 
and leaving behind her a poem couched in pitiful language 


THE BROOM-TREE 47 


and calculated to rouse the most painful sentiments of 
remorse, she flies to some remote village in the mountains 
or some desolate seashore, and for a long while all trace 
~ of her is lost. 

‘When I was a boy the ladies-in-waiting used to tell me 
sad tales of this kind. I never doubted that the sentiments 
expressed in them were real, and I wept profusely. But 
now I am beginning to suspect that such sorrows are for 
the most part affectation. She has left behind her (this 
lady whom we are imagining) a husband who is probably 
still fond of her; she is making herself very unhappy, and 
by disappearing in this way is causing him unspeakable 
anxiety, perhaps only for the ridiculous purpose of putting 
his affection to the test. Then comes along some admiring 
friend crying ‘‘ What a heart! What depth of feeling!” 
She becomes more lugubrious than ever, and finally enters 
a nunnery. When she decided on this step she was per- 
fectly sincere and had not the slightest intention of ever 
returning to the world. Then some female friend hears of 
it and “‘ Poor thing” she cries; ‘‘in what an agony of 
mind must she have been to do this!” and visits her in 
her cell. When the husband, who has never ceased to 
mourn for her, hears what she has become, he bursts into 
tears, and some servant or old nurse, seeing this, bustles 
off to the nunnery with tales of the husband’s despair, and 
“Oh Madam, what a shame, what a shame!” Then the 
nun, forgetting where and what she is, raises her hand to 
her head to straighten her hair, and finds that it has been 
shorn away. In helpless misery she sinks to the floor, and 
do what she will, the tears begin to flow. Now all is lost ; 
for since she cannot at every moment be praying for strength, 
there creeps into her mind the sinful thought that she did 
ill to become a nun and so often does she commit this sin 
that even Buddha must think her wickeder now than she 


48 THE TALE OF GENJI 


was before she took her vows; and she feels certain that 
these terrible thoughts are leading her soul to the blackest 
Hell. But if the karma of their past lives should chance 
to be strongly weighted against a parting, she will be found 
and captured before she has taken her final vows. In such 
a case their life will be beyond endurance unless she be 
fully determined, come good or ill, this time to close her 
eyes to all that goes amiss. 

‘ Again there are others who must needs be forever mount- 
ing guard over their own and their husband’s affections. 
Such a one, if she sees in him not a fault indeed but even the 
slightest inclination to stray, makes a foolish scene, declaring 
with indignation that she will have no more to do with 
him. 

‘ But even if a man’s fancy should chance indeed to have 
gone somewhat astray, yet his earlier affection may still 
be strong and in the end will return to its old haunts. 
Now by her tantrums she has made a rift that cannot be 
joined. Whereas she who when some small wrong calls 
for silent rebuke, shows by a glance that she is not unaware ; 
but when some large offence demands admonishment 
knows how to hint without severity, will end by standing 
in her master’s affections better than ever she stood before. 
For often the sight of our own forbearance will give our 
neighbour strength to rule his mutinous affections. 

‘ But she whose tolerance and forgiveness know no bounds, 
though this may seem to proceed from the beauty and 
amiability of her disposition, is in fact displaying the 
shallowness of her feeling : ‘‘ The unmoored boat must needs 
drift with the stream.’’ Are you not of this mind ? ’ 

T6 no Chujo nodded. ‘Some’ he said ‘ have imagined 
that by arousing a baseless suspicion in the mind of the 
beloved we can revive a waning devotion. But this experi- 
ment is very dangerous. Those who recommend it are 


THE BROOM-TREE 49 


confident that so long as resentment is groundless one need 
only suffer it in silence and all will soon be well. I have 
observed however that this is by no means the case. 

“But when all is said and done, there can be no greater 
virtue in woman than this: that she should with gentleness 
and forbearance meet every wrong whatsoever that falls 
to her share.’ He thought as he said this of his own sister, 
Princess Aoi ; but was disappointed and piqued to discover 
that Genji, whose comments he awaited, was fast asleep. 

Uma no Kami was an expert in such discussions and 
now stood preening his feathers. T6 no Chiijo was disposed 
to hear what more he had to say and was now at pains 
to humour and encourage him. | 

“It is with women’ said Uma no Kami ‘as it is with 
the works of craftsmen. The wood-carver can fashion 
whatever he will. Yet his products are but toys of the 
moment, to be glanced at in jest, not fashioned according to 
any precept or law. When times change, the carver too. 
will change his style and make new trifles to hit the fancy 
of the passing day. But there is another kind of artist, 
who sets more soberly about his work, striving to give real | 
beauty to,the things which men actually use and to give 
to them the shapes which tradition has ordained. This. 
maker of real things must not for a moment be confused | 
with the carver of.idle toys. 

‘In the Painters’ Workshop too there are many excellent 
artists chosen for their proficiency in ink-drawing; and 
indeed they are all so clever it is hard to set one above the 
other. But all of them are at work on subjects intended 
to impress and surprise. One paints the Mountain of 
Horai; another a raging sea-monster riding a storm; 
another, ferocious animals from the Land beyond the sea, 
or faces of imaginary demons. Letting their fancy run 
wildly riot they have no thought of beauty, but only of 

4 


50 THE TALE OF GENJI 


how best they may astonish the beholder’s eye. And 
though nothing in their pictures is real, all is probable. 
But ordinary hills and rivers, just as they are, houses such 
as you may see anywhere, with all their real beauty and 
harmony of form—quietly to draw such scenes as this, or 
to show what lies behind some intimate hedge that is 
folded away far from the world, and thick trees upon some 
unheroic hill, and all this with befitting care for composition, 
proportion, and the like,—such works demand the highest 
master’s utmost skill and must needs draw the common 
craftsman into a thousand blunders. So too in handwriting, 
we see some who aimlessly prolong their cursive strokes 
this way or that, and hope their flourishes will be mistaken 
for genius. But true penmanship preserves in every letter 
its balance and form, and though at first some letters may 
seem but half-formed, yet when we compare them with the 
copy-books we find that there is nothing at all amiss. 

“So it is in these trifling matters. And how much the 
more in judging of the human heart should we distrust all 
fashionable airs and graces, all tricks and smartness, learnt 
only to please the outward gaze! This I first understood 
some while ago, and if you will have patience with me 
I will tell you the story.’ 

So saying, he came and sat a little closer to them, and 
Genji woke up. Té6 no Chij6, in wrapt attention, was 
sitting with his cheek propped upon his hand. Uma no 
Kami’s whole speech that night was indeed very much 
like a chaplain’s sermon about the ways of the world, and 
was rather absurd. But upon such occasions as this we 
are easily led on into discussing our own ideas and most 
private secrets without the least reserve. 

“It happened when I was young, and in an even more 
humble position than I am to-day’ Uma no Kami continued. 
‘I was in love with a girl who (like the drudging, faithful 


THE BROOM-TREE 51 


wife of whom I spoke a little while ago) was not a full-sail 
beauty ; and I in my youthful vanity thought she was all 
very well for the moment, but would never do for the wife 
of so fine a fellow as I. She made an excellent companion 
in times when I was at a loose end; but she was of a dis- 
position so violently jealous, that I could have put up 
with a little less devotion if only she had been somewhat 
less fiercely ardent and exacting. | 

“Thus I kept thinking, vexed by her unrelenting sus- 
picions. But then I would remember her ceaseless devotion 
to the interests of one who was after all a person of no 
account, and full of remorse I made sure that with a little 
patience on my part she would one day learn to school 
her jealousy. 

‘It was her habit to minister to my smallest wants even 
before I was myself aware of them; whatever she felt 
was lacking in her she strove to acquire, and where she 
knew that in some quality of mind she still fell behind my 
desires, she was at pains never to show her deficiency in 
such a way as might vex me. Thus in one way or another 
she was always busy in forwarding my affairs, and she 
hoped that if all down to the last dew drop (as they say) 
were conducted as I should wish, this would be set down 
_to her credit and help to balance the defects in her person : 
which meek and obliging as she might be could not (she 
fondly imagined) fail to offend me; and at this time she 
even hid herself from strangers lest their poor opinion of 
her looks should put me out of countenance. 

“TI meanwhile, becoming used to her homely looks, was | 
well content with her character, save for this one article | 
of jealousy ; and here she showed no amendment. Then I. 
began to think to myself “‘ Surely, since she seems so anxious 
to please, so timid, there must be some way of giving her 
a fright which will teach her a lesson, so that for a while 


52 THE TALE OF GENJI 


at least we may have a respite from this accursed business.”’ 
And though I knew it would cost me dear, I determined 
to make a pretence of giving her up, thinking that since 
she was so fond of me this would be the best way to teach 
her a lesson. Accordingly I behaved with the greatest 
coldness to her, and she as usual began her jealous fit and 
behaved with such folly that in the end I said to her, “ If 
you want to be rid for ever of one who loves you dearly, 
you are going the right way about it by all these endless 
poutings over nothing at all. But if you want to go on 
with me, you must give up suspecting some deep intrigue 
each time you fancy that I am treating you unkindly. 
Do this, and you may be sure I shall continue to love you 
dearly. It may well be that as time goes on, I shall rise 
a little higher in the world and then... ” 

‘TI thought I had managed matters very cleverly, though 
perhaps in the heat of the moment I might have spoken 
somewhat too roughly. She smiled faintly and answered 
that if it were only a matter of bearing for a while with 
my failures and disappointments, that did not trouble her 
at all, and she would gladly wait till I became a person of 
consequence. ‘‘ But it is a hard task” she said “to go 
on year after year enduring your coldness and waiting the 
time when you will at last learn to behave to me with some 
decency; and therefore I agree with you that the time 
has come when we had better go each his own way.”’ Then 
in a fit of wild and uncontrollable jealousy she began to 
pour upon me a torrent of bitter reproaches, and with a 
woman’s savagery she suddenly seized my little finger and 
bit deep into it. The unexpected pain was difficult to bear, 
but composing myself I said tragically ‘‘ Now you have 
put this mark upon me I shall get on worse than ever in 
polite society ; as for promotion, I shall be considered a 
disgrace to the meanest public office and unable to cut a 


THE BROOM-TREE 53 


genteel figure in any capacity I shall be obliged to withdraw 
myself completely from the world. You and I at any rate 
shall certainly not meet again,’ and bending my injured 
finger as I turned to go, I recited the verse ‘‘ As on bent 
hand I count the times that we have met, it is not one 
finger only that bears witness to my pain.”’ And she, all 
of a sudden bursting into tears .. . “ If still in your heart 
only you look for pains to count, then were our hands 
best employed in parting.”” After a few more words I 
left her, not for a moment thinking that all was over. 
‘Days went by, and no news. I began to be restless. 
One night when I had been at the Palace for the rehearsal 
of the Festival music, heavy sleet was falling ; and I stood 
at the spot where those of us who came from the Palace 
had dispersed, unable to make up my mind which way 
to go. For in no direction had I anything which could 
properly be called a home. I might of course take a room 
in the Palace precincts; but I shivered to think of the 
cheerless grandeur that would surround me. Suddenly 
I began to wonder what she was thinking, how she was 
looking ; and brushing the snow off my shoulders, I set 
out for her house. I own I felt uneasy; but I thought 
that after so long a time her anger must surely have some- 
what abated. Inside the room a lamp showed dimly, 
turned to the wall. Some undergarments were hung out 
upon a large, warmly-quilted couch, the bed-hangings were 
drawn up, and I made sure that she was for some reason 
actually expecting me. I was priding myself on having 
made so lucky a hit, when suddenly, ‘ Not at home!”’; 
and on questioning the maid I learnt that she had but that 
very night gone to her parents’ home, leaving only a few 
necessary servants behind. The fact that she had till 
now sent no poem or conciliatory message seemed to show 
some hardening of heart, and had already disquieted me. 


54 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Now I began to fear that her accursed suspiciousness and 
jealousy had but been a stratagem to make me grow weary 
of her, and though I could recall no further proof of this 
I fell into great despair. And to show her that, though we 
no longer met, I still thought of her and planned for her, I 
got her some stuff for a dress, choosing a most delightful 
and unusual shade of colour, and a material that I knew 
she would be glad to have. ‘“ For after all’’ I thought 
“she cannot want to put me altogether out of her head.” 
When I informed her of this purchase she did not rebuff 
me nor make any attempt to hide from me, but to all my 
questions she answered quietly and composedly, without 
any sign that she was ashamed of herself. 

‘ At last she told me that if I went on as before, she could 
never forgive me; but if I would promise to live more 
quietly she would take me back again. Seeing that she 
still hankered after me I determined to school her a little 
further yet, and said that I could make no conditions and 
must be free to live as I chose. So the tug of war went on ; 
but it seems that it hurt her far more than I knew, for in 
a little while she fell into a decline and died, leaving me 
aghast at the upshot of my wanton game. And now I felt 
that, whatever faults she might have had, her devotion 
alone would have made her a fit wife forme. I remembered 
how both in trivial talk and in consideration of important 
matters she had never once shown herself at a loss, how 
in the dyeing of brocades she rivalled the Goddess of Tatsuta 
who tints the autumn leaves, and how in needlework and 
the like she was not less skilful than Tanabata, the Weaving- 
lady of the sky.’ | 

Here he stopped, greatly distressed at the recollection 
of the lady’s many talents and virtues. 

‘The Weaving-lady and the Herd boy’ said T6 no Chijé 
“enjoy a love that is eternal. Had she but resembled the 


THE BROOM-TREE 55 


Divine Sempstress in this, you would not, I think, have 
minded her being a little less skilful with her needle. I 
wonder that with this rare creature in mind you pronounce 
the world to be so blank a place.’ 

‘Listen’ replied Uma no Kami ‘ About the same time 
there was another lady whom I used to visit. She was 
of higher birth than the first; her skill in poetry, cursive 
writing, and lute-playing, her readiness of hand and tongue 
were all marked enough to show that she was not a woman 
of trivial nature; and this indeed was allowed by those 
who knew her. To add to this she was not ill-looking and 
sometimes, when I needed a rest from my unhappy per- 
secutress, I used to visit her secretly. In the end I found 
that I had fallen completely in love with her. After the 
death of the other I was in great distress. But it was no 
use brooding over the past and I began to visit my new 
lady more and more often. I soon came to the conclusion 
that she was frivolous and I had no confidence that I should 
have liked what went on when I was not there to see. I 
now visited her only at long intervals and at last decided 
that she had another lover. 

_ ‘It was during the Godless Month,! on a beautiful moon- 
light night. As I was leaving the Palace I met a certain 
young courtier, who, when I told him that I was driving 
out to spend the night at the Dainagon’s, said that my way 
was his and joined me. The road passed my lady’s house 
and here it was that he alighted, saying that he had an 
engagement which he should have been very sorry not to 
fulfil. The wall was half in ruins and through its gaps 
I saw the shadowy waters of the lake. . It would not have 
been easy (for even the moonbeams seemed to loiter here !) 
to hasten past so lovely a place, and when he left his coach I 
too left mine. 

t The tenth month. 


56 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘ At once this man (whom I now knew to be that other 
lover whose existence I had guessed) went and sat uncon- 
cernedly on the bamboo skirting of the portico and began 
to gaze at the moon. The chrysanthemums were just in 
full bloom, the bright fallen leaves were tumbling and 
tussling in the wind. It was indeed a scene of wonderful 
beauty that met our eyes. Presently he took a flute out 
of the folds of his dress and began to play upon it. Then 
putting the flute aside, he began to murmur “ Sweet is 
the shade ’’? and other catches. Soon a pleasant-sounding 
native zithern? began to tune up somewhere within the 
house and an ingenious accompaniment was fitted to his 
careless warblings. Her zithern was tuned to the autumn- 
mode, and she played with so much tenderness and feeling 
that though the music came from behind closed shutters 
it sounded quite modern and passionate,3 and well accorded 
with the soft beauty of the moonlight. The courtier was 
ravished, and as he stepped forward to place himself right 
under her window he turned to me and remarked in a self- 
satisfied way that among the fallen leaves no other footstep 
had left its mark. Then plucking a chrysanthemum, he 
sang : . 


Strange that the music of your lute, 
These matchless flowers and all the beauty of the night, 
Have lured no other feet to linger at your door! 


and then, beseeching her pardon for his halting verses, he 
begged her to play again while one was still near who longed 
so passionately to hear her. When he had paid her many 


t From the saibara ballad, The Well of Asuka: ‘ Sweet is the shade, 
the lapping waters cool, and good the pasture for our weary steeds. By 
the Well of Asuka, here let us stay.’ 

2 The ‘ Japanese zithern’; also called wagon. A species of koto. 

3 As opposed to the formal and traditional music imported from 
China. 


THE BROOM-TREE 57 


other compliments, the lady answered in an affected voice 
with the verse : 


Would that I had some song that might detain 
The flute that blends its note 
With the low rustling of the autumn leaves. 


and after these blandishments, still unsuspecting, she took 
up the thirteen-stringed lute, and tuning it to the Banjiki 
mode? she clattered at the strings with all the frenzy that 
fashion now demands. It was a fine performance no doubt, 
but I cannot say that it made a very agreeable impression 
upon me. | 

‘A man may amuse himself well enough by trifling from 
time to time with some lady at the Court; will get what 
pleasure he can out of it while he is with her and not trouble 
his head about what goes on when he is not there. This 
lady too I only saw from time to time, but such was her 
situation that I had once fondly imagined myself the only 
occupant of her thoughts. However that night’s work 
dissolved the last shred of my confidence, and I never saw 
her again. 

“These two experiences, falling to my lot while I was 
still so young, early deprived me of any hope from women. 
And since that time my view of them has but grown the 
blacker. No doubt to you at your age they seem very 
entrancing, these ‘‘ dew-drops on the grass that fall if 
they are touched,” these “ glittering hailstones that melt 
if gathered in the hand.”’ But when you are a little older 
you will think as I do. Take my advice in this at least ; 
beware of caressing manners and soft, entangling ways. 
For if you are so rash as to let them lead you astray, you 


t See Encyclopédie de la Musique, p. 247. Under the name Nan-li 
this mode was frequently used in the Chinese love-dramas of the four- 
teenth century. It was considered very wild and moving. 


58 THE TALE OF GENJI 


will soon find yourselves cutting a very silly figure in the 
world.’ 

To no Chijo as usual nodded his assent, and Genji’s 
smile seemed such as to show that he too accepted Uma no 
Kami’s advice. ‘ Your two stories were certainly very 
dismal’ he said, laughing. And here T6 no Chitjo inter- 
posed: ‘I will tell you a story about myself. There 
was a lady whose acquaintance I was obliged to make 
with great secrecy. But her beauty well rewarded my 
pains, and though I had no thought of making her my 
wife I grew so fond of her that I soon found I could not 
put her out of my head and she seemed to have complete 
confidence in me. Such confidence indeed that when from 
time to time I was obliged to behave in such a way as might 
well have aroused her resentment, she seemed not to notice 
that anything was amiss, and even when I neglected her 
for many weeks, she treated me as though I were still 
coming every day. In the end indeed I found this readiness 
to receive me whenever and however I came very painful, 
and determined for the future to merit her strange confidence. 

‘Her parents were dead and this was perhaps why, since 
I was all she had in the world, she treated me with such 
loving meekness, despite the many wrongs I did her. I 
must own that my resolution did not last long, and I was 
soon neglecting her worse than before. During this time 
(I did not hear of it till afterwards) someone who had 
discovered our friendship began to send her veiled messages 
which cruelly frightened and distressed her. Knowing 
nothing of the trouble she was in, although I often thought 
of her I neither came nor wrote to her for a long while. 
Just when she was in her worst despair a child was born, 
and at last in her distress she plucked a blossom of the 
flower that is called ‘‘ Child of my Heart’ and sent it to me.’ 

And here To no Chijé’s eyes filled with tears. — 


THE BROOM-TREE 59 


‘Well’ said Genji ‘and did she write a message’ to go 
with it?’ ‘Oh nothing very out-of-the-ordinary’ said 
T6 no Chijo. ‘She wrote: ‘‘ Though tattered be the 
hillman’s hedge, deign sometimes to look with kindness 
upon the Child-flower that grows so sweetly there.’’ This 
brought me to her side. As usual she did not reproach 
me, but she looked sad enough, and when I considered 
the dreary desolation of this home where every object 
wore an aspect no less depressing than the wailing voices 
of the crickets in the grass, she seemed to me like some 
unhappy princess in an ancient story, and wishing her 
to feel that it was for the mother’s sake and not the child’s 
that I had come, I answered with a poem in which I called 
the Child-flower by its other name ‘“ Bed-flower,” and 
she replied with a poem that darkly hinted at the cruel 
tempest which had attended this Bed-flower’s birth. She 
spoke lightly and did not seem to be downright angry 
with me; and when a few tears fell she was at great pains 
to hide them, and seemed_more distressed at the thought 
that I might imagine her to be unhappy than actually 
resentful of my conduct towards her. So I went away 
with an easy mind and it was some while before I came 
again. When at last I returned she had utterly disappeared, 
and if she is alive she must be living a wretched vagrant 
jife. If while I still loved her she had but shown some 
outward sign of her resentment, she would not have ended 
thus as an outcast and wanderer ; for I should never have 
dared to leave her so long neglected, and might in the end 
have acknowledged her and made her mine forever. The 
child too was a sweet creature, and I have spent much 
time in searching for them, but still without success. 

“It is, I fear, as sorrowful a tale as that which Uma no 
Kami has told you. I, unfaithful, thought that I was not 
missed ; and she, still loved, was in no better case than 


60 THE TALE OF GENJI 


one whose love is not returned. I indeed am fast forgetting 
her; but she, it may be, cannot put me out of her mind 
and I fear there may be nights when thoughts that she 
would gladly banish burn fiercely in her breast ; for now I 
fancy she must be living a comfortless and unprotected life.’ 

‘When all is said and done’ said Uma no Kami ‘ my 
friend, though I pine for her now that she is gone, was 
a sad plague to me while I had her, and we must own that 
such a one will in the end be sure to make us wish ourselves 
well rid of her. The zithern-player had much talent to 
her credit, but was a great deal too light-headed. And 
your diffident lady, T6 no Chuj6, seems to me to be a very 
suspicious case. The world appears to be so constructed 
that we shall in the end be always at a loss to make a 
reasoned choice; despite all our picking, sifting and com- 
paring we shall never succeed in finding this in all ways 
and to all lengths adorable and impeccable female.’ 

‘I can only suggest the Goddess Kichij6’1 said Té no 
Chij6 ‘and I fear that intimacy with so holy and majestic 
a being might prove to be impracticable.’ 

At this they all laughed and T6 no Chijé continued : 
‘But now it is Shikibu’s turn and he is sure to give us 
something entertaining. Come Shikibu, keep the ball 
rolling!’ ‘Nothing of interest ever happens to humble 
folk like myself’ said Shikibu; but T6 no Chijé scolded 
him for keeping them waiting and after reflecting for a 
while which anecdote would best suit the company, he 
began: ‘ While I was still a student at the University, 
I came across a woman who was truly a prodigy of intelli- 
gence. One of Uma no Kami’s demands she certainly 
fulfilled, for it was possible to discuss with her to advantage 
both public matters and the proper handling of one’s private 
affairs. But not only was her mind capable of grappling 


t Goddess of Beauty. 


THE BROOM-TREE 61 


with any problems of this kind; she was also so learned 
that ordinary scholars found themselves, to their humiliation, 
quite unable to hold their own against her. 

‘I was taking lessons from her father, who was a Professor. 
I had heard that he had several daughters, and some 
accidental circumstance made it necessary for me to exchange 
a word or two with one of them who turned out to be the 
learned prodigy of whom I have spoken. The father, 
hearing that we had been seen together, came up to me 
with a wine-cup in his hand and made an allusion to the 
poem of The Two Wives.: Unfortunately I did not feel 
the least inclination towards the lady. However I was 
very civil to her; upon which she began to take an affec- 
tionate interest in me and lost no opportunity of displaying 
her talents by giving me the most elaborate advice how 
best I might advance my position in the world. She sent 
me marvellous letters written in a very far-fetched epistolary 
style and entirely in Chinese characters; in return for 
which I felt bound to visit her, and by making her my 
teacher I managed to learn how to write Chinese poems. 
They were wretched, knock-kneed affairs, but I am still 
grateful to her for it. She was not however at all the sort 
of woman whom I should have cared to have as a wife, . 
_ for though there may be certain disadvantages in marrying 
a complete dolt, it is even worse to marry a blue-stocking. 
Still less do princes like you and Genji, require so huge a 
stock of intellect and erudition for your support! Let 
her but be one to whom the karma of our past lives draws 
us in natural sympathy, what matter if now and again 
her ignorance distresses us? Come to that, even men 
seem to me to get along very well without much learning.’ 

Here he stopped, but Genji and the rest, wishing to hear 


* A poem by Po Cht-i pointing out the advantages of marrying a 
poor wife. 


62 THE TALE OF GENJI 


the end of the story, cried out that for their part they 
found her a most interesting woman. Shikibu protested 
that he did not wish to go on with the story, but at last 
after much coaxing, pulling a comical wry face he con- 
tinued: ‘I had not seen her for a long time. When at 
last some accident took me to the house, she did not receive 
me with her usual informality but spoke to me from behind 
a tiresome screen. Ha, Ha, thought I foolishly, she is 
sulking ; now is the time to have a scene and break with 
her. I might have known that she was not so little of a 
philosopher as to sulk about trifles; she prided herself 
on knowing the ways of the world and my inconstancy did 
not in the least disturb her. 

‘ She told me (speaking without the slightest tremor) that 
having had a bad cold for some weeks she had taken a strong 
garlic-cordial, which had made her breath smell rather 
unpleasant and that for this reason she could not come 
very close to me. But if I had any matter of special 
importance to discuss with her she was quite prepared to 
give me her attention. All this she had expressed with 
solemn literary perfection. I could think of no suitable 
reply, and with an “ at your service’ I rose to go. Then, 
feeling that the interview had not been quite a success, 
she added, raising her voice ‘‘ Please come again when my 
breath has lost its smell.”’ I could not pretend I had not 
heard. I had however no intention of prolonging my visit, 
particularly as the odour was now becoming definitely 
unpleasant, and looking cross I recited the acrostic “ On 
this night marked by the strange behaviour of the spider, 
how foolish to bid me come back to-morrow ’”’! and calling 

1 There is a reference to an old poem which says: ‘I know that 
to-night my lover will come to me. The spider’s antics prove it clearly.’ 
Omens were drawn from the behaviour of spiders. There is also a pun 


on hivu ‘day’ and hiru ‘ garlic,’ so that an ordinary person would 
require a few moments’ reflection before understanding the poem. 


THE BROOM-TREE 63 


over my shoulder “‘ There is no excuse for you’’! I ran 
out of the room. But she, following me “ If night by night 
and every night we met, in daytime too I should grow bold 
to meet you face to face.’? Here in the second sentence 
she had cleverly concealed the meaning “‘ If I had had any 
reason to expect you, I should not have eaten garlic.” ’ 

‘What a revolting story’ cried the young princes, and 
then, laughing, ‘ He must have invented it.’ ‘Such a woman 
is quite incredible ; it must have been some sort of ogress. 
You have shocked us, Shikibu!’ and they looked at him 
with disapproval. ‘ You must try to tell us a better story 
than that.’ ‘I do not see how any story could be better ’ 
said Shikibu, and left the room. 

“There is a tendency among men as well as women’ 
said Uma no Kami ‘so soon as they have acquired a little 
knowledge of some kind, to want to display it to the best 
advantage. To have mastered all the difficulties in the 
Three Histories and Five Classics is no road to amiability. 
But even a woman cannot afford to lack all knowledge of 
public and private affairs. Her best way will be without 
regular study to pick up a little here and a little there, 
merely by keeping her eyes and ears open. Then, if she 
has her wits at all about her, she will soon find that she has 
amassed a surprising store of information. Let her be 
content with this and not insist upon cramming her letters 
with Chinese characters which do not at all accord with her 
feminine style of composition, and will make the recipient 
exclaim in despair ‘‘ If only she could contrive to be a little 
less mannish!’’ And many of these characters, to which 
she intended the colloquial pronunciation to be given, are 
certain to be read as Chinese, and this will give the whole 
composition an even more pedantic sound than it deserves. 
Even among our ladies of rank and fashion there are many 
of this sort, and there are others who, wishing to master 


me 


Pm mor 


64 THE TALE OF GENJI 


the art of verse-making, in the end allow it to master them, 
and, slaves to poetry, cannot resist the temptation, however 
urgent the business they are about or however inappropriate 
the time, to make use of some happy allusion which has 
occurred to them, but must needs fly to their desks and 
work it up into a poem. On festival days such a woman 
is very troublesome. For example on the morning of the 
Iris Festival, when everyone is busy making ready to go 
to the temple, she will worry them by stringing together 
all the old tags about the ‘‘ matchless root ”’ !; or on the gth 


day of the gth month, when everyone is busy thinking out 


some difficult Chinese poem to fit the rhymes which have 
been prescribed, she begins making metaphors about the 
‘“‘ dew on the chrysanthemums,”’ thus diverting our attention 
from the far more important business which is in hand. 
At another time we might have found these compositions 
quite delightful; but by thrusting them upon our notice 
at inconvenient moments, when we cannot give them 
proper attention, she makes them seem worse than they 
really are. For in all matters we shall best commend 
ourselves if we study men’s faces to read in them the “ Why 
so?” or the “‘ As you will” and do not, regardless of times 
and circumstances, demand an interest and sympathy that 
they have not leisure to give. 

‘Sometimes indeed a woman should even pretend to know 
less than she knows, or say only a part of what she would 
like tosay...’ 

All this while Genji, though he had sometimes joined in 
the conversation, had in his heart of hearts been thinking 
of one person only, and the more he thought the less could 
he find a single trace of those shortcomings and excesses 
which, so his friends had declared, were common to all 


1 The irises used for the Tango festival (5th day of 5th month) had to 
have nine flowers growing on a root. 


THE BROOM-TREE 65 


women. ‘ There is no one like her’ he thought, and his 
heart was very full. The conversation indeed had not 
brought them to a definite conclusion, but it had led to 
many curious anecdotes and reflections. So they passed 
the night, and at last, for a wonder, the weather had im- 
proved. After this long residence at the Palace Genji 
knew he would be expected at the Great Hall and set out 
atonce. There was in Princess Aoi’s air and dress a dignified 
_ precision which had something in it even of stiffness; and 
in the very act of reflecting that she, above all women, 
was the type of that single-hearted and devoted wife whom 
(as his friends had said last night) no sensible man would 
lightly offend, he found himself oppressed by the very 
perfection of her beauty, which seemed only to make all 
intimacy with her the more impossible. 

He turned to Lady Chinagon, to Nakatsukasa and other 
attendants of the common sort who were standing near and 
began to jest with them. The day was now very hot, but 
they thought that flushed cheeks became Prince Genji 
very well. Aoi’s father came, and standing behind the 
curtain, began to converse very amiably. Genji, who 
considered the weather too hot for visits, frowned, at which 
the ladies-in-waiting tittered. Genji, making furious signs 
at them to be quiet, flung himself on to a divan. In fact, 
he behaved far from well. 

_ It was now growing dark. Someone said that the position 
of the Earth Star! would make it unlucky for the Prince 
to go back to the Palace that night; and another: ‘ You 
are right. It is now set dead against him.’ ‘ But my own 
palace isin the same direction !’ cried Genji. “How vexing! 
where then shall I go?’ and promptly fell asleep. The 
ladies-in-waiting however, agreed that it was a very serious 
matter and began discussing what could be done. ‘ There 


t The ‘ Lord of the Centre,’ i.e. the planet Saturn, 
5 


66 THE TALE OF GENJI 


is Ki no Kami’s house’ said one. This Ki no Kami was 
one of Genji’s gentlemen in waiting. ‘It is in the Middle 
River’ she went on; ‘and delightfully cool and shady, 
for they have lately dammed the river and made it flow 
right through the garden.’ ‘That sounds very pleasant’ 
said Genji, waking up, ‘ besides they are the sort of people 
who would not mind one’s driving right in at the front gate, 
if one had a mind to.’ ? 

He had many friends whose houses lay out of the unlucky 
direction. But he feared that if he went to one of them, 
Aoi would think that, after absenting himself so long, he 
was now merely using the Earth Star as an excuse for 
returning to more congenial company. He _ therefore 
broached the matter to Ki no Kami, who accepted the 
proposal, but stepping aside whispered to his companions 
that his father Iyo no Kami, who was absent on service, 
had asked him to look after his young wife.2 ‘ 1 am afraid 
we have not sufficient room in the house to entertain him 
as I could wish.’ Genji overhearing this, strove to reassure 
him, saying ‘It will be a pleasure to me to be near the 
lady. A visit is much more agreeable when there is a hostess 
to welcome us. Find me some corner behind her parti- 
tion ...!’ ‘Even then, I fear you may not find... 7 
but breaking off Ki no Kami sent a runner to-his house, 
with orders to make ready an apartment for the Prince. 
Treating a visit to so humble a house as a matter of no 
importance, he started at once, without even informing the 
Minister, and taking with him only a few trusted body- 
servants. Ki no Kami protested against the precipi ncn 
but in vain. 

The servants dusted and aired the eastern side-chamber 
of the Central Hall and here made temporary quarters for 


tLe, people with whom one can be quite at ease. It was usual to 
unharness one’s bulls at the gate. 
2 Ki no Kami’s step-mother. 


THE BROOM-TREE 67 


‘the Prince. They were at pains to improve the view from 
his windows, for example by altering the course of certain 
rivulets. They set up a rustic wattled hedge and filled 
the borders with the choicest plants. The low humming 
of insects floated on the cool breeze; numberless fireflies 
wove inextricable mazes in the air. The whole party 
settled down near where the moat flowed under the covered 
bridge and began to drink wine. 

Ki no Kami went off in a great bustle, saying that he 
must find them something to eat. Genji, quietly surveying 
the scene, decided this was one of those middle-class families 
which in last night’s conversation had been so highly 
commended. He remembered that he had heard the lady 
who was staying in the house well spoken of and was curious 
to see her. He listened and thought that there seemed 
to be people in the western wing. There was a soft rustling 
of skirts, and from time to time the sound of young and 
by no means disagreeable voices. They did not seem to be 
much in earnest in their efforts to make their whispering 
and laughter unheard, for soon one of them opened the 
sliding window. But Ki no Kami crying ‘ What are you 
thinking of ?’ crossly closed it again. The light of a candle 
in the room filtered through a crack in the paper-window. 
_ Genji edged slightly closer to the window in the hope of 
_ being able to see through the crack, but found that he could 
see nothing. He listened for a while, and. came to the 
conclusion that they were sitting in the main women’s 
apartments, out of which the little front room opened. 
They were speaking very low, but he could catch enough 
of it to make out that they were talking about him. 

‘What a shame that a fine young Prince should be taken 
so young and settled down for ever with a lady that was 
none of his choosing ! ’ 

‘I understand that marriage does not weigh very heavily 


68 THE TALE OF GENJI 


upon him’ said another. This probably meant nothing in 
particular, but Genji, who imagined they were talking 
about what was uppermost in his own mind, was appalled 
at the idea that his relations with Lady Fujitsubo were 
about to be discussed. How could they have found out ? 
But the subsequent conversation of the ladies soon showed 
that they knew nothing of the matter at all, and’ Genji 
stopped listening. Presently he heard them trying to 
‘repeat the poem which he had sent with a nose-gay of 
morning-glory to Princess Asagao, daughter of Prince 
Momozono.t But they got the lines rather mixed up, 
and Genji began to wonder whether the lady’s appearance 
would turn out to be on a level with her knowledge of 
prosody. 

At this moment Ki no Kami came in with a lamp which 
he hung on the wall. Having carefully trimmed it, he 
offered Genji a tray of fruit. This was all rather dull and 
Genji by a quotation from an old folk-song hinted that he 
would like to meet Ki no Kami’s other guests. The hint 
was not taken. Genji began to doze, and his attendants 
sat silent and motionless. 

There were in the room several charming boys, sons of 
Ki no Kami, some of whom Genji already knew as pages 
at the Palace. There were also numerous sons of Iyo no 
Kami; with them was a boy of twelve or thirteen who 
particularly caught Genji’s fancy. He began asking whose 
sons the boys were, and when he came to this one Ki no 
Kami replied ‘ he is the youngest son of the late Chiinagon, 
who loved him dearly, but died while this boy was still a 
child. His sister married my father and that is why he 
is living here. He is quick at his books, and we hope 


t We learn later that Genji courted this lady in vain from his 
seventeenth year onward. Though she has never been mentioned before, 
Murasaki speaks of her as though the reader already knew all about her. 
This device is also employed by Marcel Proust. 


THE BROOM-TREE 69 


one day to send him to Court, but I fear that his lack 
of influence . 

“Poor child!’ said Genji. ‘ His sister, then, is your 
step-mother, is that not so? How strange that you should 
stand in this relationship with so young a girl! And now 
I come to think of it there was some talk once of her being 
presented at Court, and I once heard the Emperor asking 
what had become of her. How changeable are the fortunes 
of the world.’ He was trying to talk in a very grown-up 
way. 

“Indeed, Sir’ answered Ki no Kami, ‘ her subsequent 
state was humbler than she had reason to expect. But 
such is our mortal life. Yes, yes, and such has it always 
been. We have our ups and downs—and the women even 
more than the men.’ } 

Genji : ‘ But your father no doubt makes much of her ? ’ 

Kino Kami: ‘Makes much cf her indeed! You may 
well say so, She rules his house, and he dotes on her in 
so wholesale and extravagant a fashion that all of us (and 
I among the foremost) have had occasion before now to call 
him to order, but he does not listen.’ 

Genji : “ How comes it then that he has left her behind 
in the house of a fashionable young Courtier? For he 
_ looks like a man of prudence and good sense. But pray, 

where is she now ?’ 

Ki no Kami: ‘ The ladies have been ordered to retire 
to the common room, but they have not yet finished all 
their preparations.’ 

Genji’s followers, who had drunk heavily, were now all 
lying fast asleep on the verandah. He was alone in his 
room, but could not get to sleep. Having at last dozed 
for a moment, he woke suddenly and noticed that someone 
was moving behind the paper-window of the back wall. 
This, he thought, must be where she is hiding, and faintly 


70 THE TALE OF GENJI 


curious he sauntered in that direction and stood listening. 
‘Where are you?’ I say ‘ Where are you?’ whispered 
someone in a quaint, hoarse voice, which seemed to be that 
of the boy whom Genji had noticed earlier in the evening. 
‘T am lying over here’ another voice answered. ‘ Has the 
stranger gone to sleep yet ? His room must be quite close 
to this; but all the same how far off he seems!’ Her 
sleepy voice was so like the boy’s, that Genji concluded 
this must be his sister. 

‘He is sleeping in the wing, I saw him to-night. All 
that we have heard of him is true enough. He is as hand- 
some as can be’ whispered the boy. ‘I wish it were to- 
morrow ; I want to see him properly ’ she answered drowsily, 
her voice seeming. to come from under the bed clothes. 
Genji was rather disappointed that she did not ask more 
questions about him. Presently he heard the boy saying 
‘I am going to sleep over in the corner-room. How bad 
the light is’ and he seemed to be trimming the lamp. His 
sister’s bed appeared to be in the corner opposite the 
paper-window. ‘Where is Chijd?’ she called. ‘I am 
frightened, I like to have someone close to me.’ ‘ Madam’ 
answered several voices from the servants’ room, ‘she is 
taking her bath in the lower house. She will be back 
presently.’ When all was quiet again, Genji slipped back 
the bolt and tried the door. It was not fastened on the 
other side. He found himself in an ante-room with a 
screen at the end, beyond which a light glimmered. In 
the half-darkness he could see clothes boxes and trunks 
strewn about in great disorder. Quietly threading his way 
among them, he entered the inner room from which the 
voices had proceeded. One very minute figure was couched 
there who, to Genji’s slight embarrassment, on hearing his 
approach pushed aside the cloak which covered her, thinking 
that he was the maid for whom she had sent. ‘ Madam,» 


THE BROOM-TREE 71 


hearing you call for Chijo! I thought that I might now 
put at your service the esteem in which I have long secretly 
held you.’ The lady could make nothing of all this, and 
terrified out of her wits tried hard to scream. But no 
sound came, for she had buried her face in the bed clothes. 

* Please listen’ said Genji. ‘ This sudden intrusion must 
of course seem to you very impertinent. You do not 
know that for years I have waited for an occasion to tell 
you how much [| like and admire you, and if to-night I 
could not resist the temptation of paying this secret visit, 
pray take the strangeness of my behaviour as proof of 
my impatience to pay a homage that has long been due.’ 
He spoke so courteously and gently and looked so kind 
that not the devil himself would have taken umbrage at 
his presence. But feeling that the situation was not at 
all a proper one for a married lady she said (without much 
conviction) ‘I think you have made a mistake.’ She 
spoke very low. Her bewildered air made her all the more 
attractive, and Genji, enchanted by her appearance, 
hastened to answer: ‘ Indeed I have made no mistake; 
rather, with no guide but a long-felt deference and esteem, 
I have found my way unerringly to your side. But I see 
that the suddenness of my visit has made you distrust my 
purpose. Let me tell you then that I have no evil intentions 
and seek only for someone to talk with me for a while 
about a matter which perplexes me.’ So saying he took 
her up in his arms (for she was very small) and was carrying 
her through the ante-room when suddenly Chijo, the 
servant for whom she had sent before, entered the bedroom. 
Genji gave an astonished cry and the maid, wondering 
who could have entered the ante-room, began groping her 
way towards them. But coming closer she recognized by 
the rich perfume of his dress that this could be none other 


* Chiij6 means ‘ Captain,’ which was Genji’s rank at the time. 


72 THE TALE OF GENJI 


~ than the Prince. And though she was sorely puzzled to 
know what was afoot, she dared not say a word. Had he 
been an ordinary person, she would soon have had him 
by the ears. ‘Nay’ she thought ‘even if he were not 
a Prince I should do best to keep my hands off him; for 
the more stir one makes, the more tongues wag. But if I 
should touch this fine gentleman . . . ,’ and all in a flutter 
she found herself obediently following Genji to his room. 
Here he calmly closed the door upon her, saying as he did 
so ‘ You will come back to fetch your mistress in the 
morning.’ Utsusemi herself was vexed beyond measure at 
being thus disposed of in the presence of her own waiting- 
maid, who could indeed draw but one conclusion from 
what she had seen. But to all her misgivings and anxieties 
Genji, who had the art of improvising a convincing reply 
to almost any question, answered with such a wealth of 
ingenuity and tender concern, that for awhile she was 
content. But soon becoming again uneasy, ‘ This must all 
be a dream—that you, so great a Prince, should stoop to 
consider so humble a creature as I, and I am overwhelmed 
by so much kindness. But I think you have forgotten 
what I am. A Zury6d’s wife! there is no altering that, 
and you. ..!’ Genji now began to realize how deeply he 
had distressed and disquieted her by his wild behaviour, 
and feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself he answered : 
“fam afraid I know very little about these questions of 
rank and precedence. Such things are too confusing to 
carry in one’s head. And whatever you may have heard 
of me I want to tell you for some reason or other I have 
till this day cared nothing for gallantry nor ever practised 
it, and that even you cannot be more astonished at what 
I have done to-night than I myself am.’ With this and 
a score of other speeches he sought to win her confidence. 
But she, knowing that if once their talk became a jot less 


THE BROOM-TREE 73 


formal, she would be hard put to it to withstand his singular 
charm, was determined, even at the risk of seeming stiff 
and awkward, to show him that in trying so hard to put 
her at her ease he was only wasting his time, with the 
result that she behaved very boorishly indeed. She was 
by nature singularly gentle and yielding, so that the effort 
of steeling her heart and despite her feelings, playing all 
the while the part of the young bamboo-shoot which though 
so green and tender cannot be broken, was very painful 
to her; and finding that she could not longer think of 
arguments with which to withstand his importunity, she 
burst into tears; and though he was very sorry for her, 
it occurred to him that he would not gladly have missed 
that sight. He longed however to console her, but could 
not think of a way to do so, and said at last, ‘ Why do you 
treat me so unkindly ? It is true that the manner of our 
meeting was strange, yet I think that Fate meant us to 
meet. Itis harsh that you should shrink from me as though 
the World and you had never met.’ So he chided her, 
and she: ‘ If this had happened long ago before my troubles, 
before my lot was cast, perhaps I should have been glad 
to take your kindness while it lasted, knowing that you 
would soon think better of your strange condescension. 
But now that my course is fixed, what can such meetings 
bring me save misery and regret? Tell none that you have 
seen mvy home’ she ended, quoting the old song.! ‘ Small 
wonder that she is sad’ thought Genji, and he found many 
a tender way to comfort her. And now the cock began to 
crow. Out in the courtyard Genji’s men were staggering 
to their feet, one crying drowsily ‘ How I should like to go 
to sleep again,’ and another ‘ Make haste there, bring out 
his Honour’s coach,’ Ki no Kami came out into the yard, 
“What’s all this hurry ? It is only when there are women 


t Kokinshé 811, an anonymous love-poem. 


74 THE TALE OF GENJI 


in his party that a man need hasten from a refuge to which 
the Earth star has sent him. Why is his Highness setting 
off in the middle of the night ? ’ 

Genji was wondering whether such an opportunity would 
ever occur again. How would he be able even to send her 
letters ? And thinking of all the difficulties that awaited 
him, he became very despondent. Chijo arrived to fetch 
her mistress. For a long while he would not let her go, 
and when at last he handed her over, he drew her back 
to him saying ‘ How can I send news to you? For, Madam,’ 
he said raising his voice that the maid Chij6 might hear 
“such love as mine, and such pitiless cruelty as yours have 
never been seen in the world before.’ Already the birds 
were singing in good earnest. She could not forget that 
she was no one and he a Prince. And even now, while he 
was tenderly entreating her, there came unbidden to her 
mind the image of her husband Iyo no Suke, about whom 
she generally thought either not at all or with disdain. 
To think that even in a dream he might see her now, filled 
her with shame and terror. 

It was daylight. Genji went with her to the partition 
door. Indoors and out there was a bustle of feet. As he 
closed the door upon her, it seemed to him a barrier that 
shut him out from all happiness. He dressed, and went 
out on to the balcony. A blind in the western wing was 
hastily raised. There seemed to be people behind who were 
looking at him. They could only see him indistinctly 
across the top of a partition in the verandah. Among 
them was one, perhaps, whose heart beat wildly as she 
LOOKER hanncne 

The moon had not set, and though with dwindled light 
still shone crisp and clear in the dawn. It was a daybreak 
of marvellous beauty. But in the passionless visage of 
the sky men read only their own comfort or despair; and 


THE BROOM-TREE 75 


Genji, as with many backward glances he went upon his 
way, paid little heed to the beauty of the dawn. He would 
send her a message ? No, even that was utterly impossible. 
And so, in great unhappiness he returned to his wife’s 
house. 

He would gladly have slept a little, but could not stop 
trying to invent some way of seeing her again; or when 
that seemed hopeless, imagining to himself all that must 
now be going on in her mind. She was no great beauty, 
Genji reflected, and yet one could not say that she was 
ugly. Yes, she was in every sense a member of that Middle 
Class upon which Uma no Kami had given them so complete 
a dissertation. 

. He stayed for some while at the Great Hall, and finding 
that, try as he might, he could not stop thinking about her 
and longing for her, at last in despair he sent for Ki no 
Kami and said to him ‘ Why do you not let me have that 
boy in my service,—the Chitinagon’s son, whom I saw at 
your house? He is a likely looking boy, and I might 
make him my body-servant, or even recommend him to 
the Emperor.’ ‘I am sensible of your kindness’ said 
Ki no Kami, ‘I will mention what you have said to the 
boy’s sister.’ This answer irritated Genji, but he con- 
tinued: ‘And has this lady given you step-brothers my 
lord?’ ‘Sir, she has been married these two years, but 
has had no child. It seems that in making this marriage 
she disobeyed her father’s last injunctions, and this has 
set her against her husband.’ 

Genji: ‘ That is sad indeed: I am told that she is not 
ill-looking. Is that so?’ 

Ki no Kami: ‘I believe she is considered quite passable. 
But I have had very little to do with her. Intimacy 
between step-children and step-parents is indeed proverbially 
difficult.’ 


76 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Five or six days afterwards Ki no Kami brought the 
boy. He was not exactly handsome, but he had great 
charm and (thought Genji) an air of distinction. The 
Prince spoke very kindly to him and soon completely 
won his heart. To Genji’s many questions about his sister 
he made such answers as he could, and when he seemed 
embarrassed or tongue-tied Genji found some less direct 
way of finding out what he wanted to know, and soon 
put the boy at his ease. For though he vaguely realized 
what was going on and thought it rather odd, he was so 
young that he made no effort to understand it, and without 
further question carried back a letter from Genji to his 
sister. 

She was so much agitated by the sight of it that she 
burst into tears and, lest her brother should perceive them, 
held the letter in front of her face while she read it. It was 
very long. Among much else it contained the verse 
‘Would that I might dream that dream again! Alas, 
since first this wish was mine, not once have my eye-lids 
closed in sleep.’ 

She had never seen such beautiful writing, and as she 
read, a haze clouded her eyes. What incomprehensible 
fate had first dragged her down to be the wife of a Zury6, 
and then for a moment raised her so high? Still pondering, 
she went to her room. 

Next day, Genji again sent for the boy, who went to 
his sister saying ‘I am going to Prince Genji. Where is 
your answer to his letter?’ ‘Tell him’ she answered 
‘that there is no one here who reads such letters.’ The 
boy burst out laughing. ‘ Why, you silly, how could I 
say such a thing to him. He told me himself to be sure 
to bring an answer.’ It infuriated her to think that Genji 
should have thus taken the boy into his confidence and 
she answered angrily, “He has no business to talk to you 


THE BROOM-TREE 77 


about such things at your age. If that is what you talk 
about you had better not go to him any more.’ ‘ But 
he sent for me’ said the boy, and started off. 

“I was waiting for you all yesterday’ said Genji when 
the boy returned. ‘ Did you forget to bring the answer ? 
Did you forget to come?’ The child blushed and made 
no reply. ‘And now?’ ‘She said there is no one at 
home who reads such letters.’ ‘ How silly, what can be 
the use of saying such things?’, and he wrote another 
letter and gave it to the boy, saying: ‘I expect you 
do not know that I used to meet your sister before her 
marriage. She treats me in this scornful fashion because 
she looks upon me as a poor-spirited, defenceless creature. 
Whereas she has now a mighty Deputy Governor to look 
after her. But I hope that you will promise to be my 
child not his. For he is very old, and will not be able 
to take care of you for long.’ 

The boy was quite content with this explanation, and 
admired Genji more than ever. The prince kept him 
always at his side, even taking him to the Palace. And 
he ordered his Chamberlain to see to it that he was provided 
with a little Court suit. Indeed he treated him just as 
though he were his own child. 

Genji continued to send letters ; but she, thinking that 
the boy, young as he was, might easily allow a message 
to fall into the wrong hands and that then she would lose 
her fair name to no purpose, feeling too (that however 
much he desired it) between persons so far removed in 
rank there could be no lasting union, she answered his 
letters only in the most formal terms. 

Dark though it had been during most of the time they 
were together, she yet had a clear recollection of his 
appearance, and could not deny to herself that she thought 
him uncommonly handsome. But she very much doubted 


78 THE TALE OF GENJI 


if he on his side really knew what she was like; indeed 
she felt sure that the next time they met he would think 
her very plain and all would be over. 

Genji meanwhile thought about her continually. He 
was for ever calling back to memory each incident of that 
one meeting, and every recollection filled him with longing 
and despair. He remembered how sad she had looked 
when she spoke to him of herself, and he longed to make 
her happier. He thought of visiting her in secret. But 
the risk of discovery was too great, and the consequences 
likely to be more fatal to her even than to himself. 

He had been many days at the Palace, when at last 
the Earth Star again barred the road to his home. He 
set out at once, but on the way pretended that he had 
just remembered the unfavourable posture of the. stars. 
There was nothing to do but seek shelter again in the 
house on the Middle River. Ki no Kami was surprised 
but by no means ill-pleased, for he attributed Genji’s visit 
to the amenity of the little pools and fountains which he 
had constructed in his garden. 

Genji had told the boy in the morning that he intended 
to visit the Middle River, and since he had now become 
the Prince’s constant companion, he was sent for at once 
to wait upon him in his room. He had already given a 
message to his sister, in which Genji told her of his plan. 
She could not but feel flattered at the knowledge that 
it was on her account he had contrived this ingenious excuse 
for coming to the house. Yet she had, as we have seen, 
for some reason got it into her head that at a leisurely 
meeting she would not please him as she had done at that 
first fleeting and dreamlike encounter, and she dreaded 
adding a new sorrow to the burden of her thwarted and 
unhappy existence. Too proud to let him think that she 
had posted herself in waiting for him, she said to her 


THE BROOM-TREE 79 


servants (while the boy was busy in Genji’s room) ‘I do 
not care to be at such close quarters with our guest, besides 
I am stiff, and would like to be massaged; I must go 
where there is more room,’ and so saying she made them 
carry her things to the maid Chwtj6’s bedroom in the cross- 
wing. 

Genji had purposely sent his attendants early to bed, 
and now that all was quiet, he hastened to send her a 
message. But the boy could not find her. At last when 
he had looked in every corner of the house, he tried the 
cross-wing, and succeeded in tracking her down to Chijo’s 
room. It was too bad of her to hide like this, and half 
in tears he gasped out ‘Oh how can you be so horrid? 
What will he think of you?’ ‘ You have no business to 
run after me like this’ she answered angrily, ‘It is very 
wicked for children to carry such messages. But’ she 
added, ‘ you may tell him I am not well, that my ladies 
are with me, and I am going to be massaged...’ So 
she dismissed him; but in her heart of hearts she was 
thinking that if such an adventure had happened to her 
while she was still a person of consequence, before her 

' father died and left her to shift for herself in the world, 
she would have known how to enjoy it. But now she 
must force herself to look askance at all his kindness. 
How tiresome he must think her! And she fretted so 
much at not being free to fall in love with him, that in 
the end she was more in love than ever. But then she 
remembered suddenly that her lot had long ago been cast. 
She was a wife. There was no sense in thinking of such 

—. things, and she made up her mind once and for all never 
again to let foolish ideas enter her head. 

Genji lay on his bed, anxiously waiting to see with what 
success so young a messenger would execute his delicate 
mission. When at last the answer came, astonished at 


80 THE TALE OF GENJI 


this sudden exhibition of coldness, he exclaimed in deep 
mortification ‘ This is a disgrace, a hideous disgrace,’ and 
he looked very rueful indeed. For a while he said no more, 
but lay sighing deeply, in great distress. At last he recited 
the poem ‘I knew not the nature of the strange tree! 
that stands on Sono plain, and when I sought the comfort 
of its shade, I did but lose my road,’ and sent it to her. 
She was still awake, and answered with the poem ‘ Too 
like am I in these my outcast years to the dim tree that 
dwindles from the traveller’s approaching gaze.’ The boy 
was terribly sorry for Genji and did not feel sleepy at all, 
but he was afraid people would think his continual excursions 
very strange. By this time, however, everyone else in the 
house was sound asleep. Genji alone lay plunged in the 
blackest melancholy. But even while he was raging at 
the inhuman stubbornness of her new-found and incom- 
¢ prehensible resolve, he found that he could not but admire ' 
? her the more for this invincible tenacity. At last he grew 
‘tired of lying awake; there was no more to be done. A 
moment later he had changed his mind again, and suddenly 
whispered to the boy ‘ Take me to where she is hiding!’ 
‘It is too difficult’ he said, ‘she is locked in and there 
are so many people there. I am afraid to go with you.’ 
; ‘So be it’ said Genji, ‘ but you at least must not abandon 
. me’ and he laid the boy beside him on his bed. He was 
well content to find himself lying by this handsome young 
Prince’s side, and Genji, we must record, found the boy 
no bad substitute for his ungracious sister. 


t The hahakigi or ‘ broom-tree’ when seen in the distance appears to 
offer ample shade ; but when approached turns out to be a skimpy bush. 


CHAPTER III 
UTSUSEMI 


me before’ he whispered to the boy. ‘It is more 

than I can bear. Iam sick of myself and of the world, 
and do not want to go on living any more.’ This sounded 
so tragic that the boy began to weep. The smallness and 
delicacy of his build, even the way in which his hair was 
cropped, gave him an astonishing resemblance to his sister, 
thought Genji, who found his sympathy very endearing. 
At times he had half thought of creeping away from the 
‘boy’s side and searching on his own account for the lady’s 
hiding-place ; but soon abandoned a project which would 
only have involved him in the most appalling scandal. So 
he lay, waiting for the dawn. At last, while it was still dark, 
so full of his own thoughts that he quite forgot to make his 
usual parting speech to his young page, he left the house. 
The boy’s feelings were very much hurt, and all that day 
he felt lonely andinjured. The lady, when no answer came 
from Genji, thought that he had changed his mind, and 
though she would have been very angry if he had persisted 
in his suit, she was not quite prepared to lose him with so 
little ado. 

But this was a good opportunity once and for all to 
lock up her heart against him. She thought that she had 
done so successfully, but found to her surprise that he 
still occupied an uncommonly large share of her thoughts. 

6 81 


Bas b was still sleepless. ‘ No one has ever disliked 


82 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Genji, though he felt it would have been much better 
to put the whole business out of his head, knew that he had 
not the strength of mind to do so and at last, unable to bear 
his wretchedness any longer he said to the boy ‘ I am feeling 
very unhappy. I keep on trying to think of other things, 
but my thoughts will not obey me. I can struggle no longer. 
You must watch for a suitable occasion, and then contrive 
some way of bringing me into the presence of your sister.’ 
This worried the boy, but he was inwardly flattered at the 
confidence which Genji placed in him. And an opportunity 
soon presented itself. 

Ki no Kami had been called away to the provinces, and 
there were only women in the house. One evening when 
dusk had settled upon the quiet streets the boy brought 
a carriage to fetch him. He knew that the lad would do his 
best, but not feeling quite safe in the hands of so young an 
accomplice, he put on a disguise, and then in his impatience, 
not waiting even to see the gates closed behind him, he drove 
off at top speed. They entered unobserved at a side-gate, 
and here he bade Genji descend. The brother knew that 
as he was only a boy, the watchman and gardeners would 
not pay any particular attention to his movements, and so 
he was not at all uneasy. Hiding Genji in the porch of the 
double-door of the eastern wing, he purposely banged 
against the sliding partition which separated this wing from 
the main part of the house, and that the maids might 
have the impression he did not mind who heard him enter 
he called out crossly “Why is the door shut on a hot night 
like this?’ ‘ “‘ My lady of the West”: has been here since 
this morning, and she is playing go with my other lady.’ 
Longing to catch sight of her, even though she were with a 
companion, Genji stole from his hiding-place, and crept 
through a gap in the curtains. The partition door through 


t Ki no Kami’s sister, referred to later in the story as Nokiba no Ogi. 


UTSUSEMI | 83 


which the boy had passed was still open, and he could 
see through it, right along the corridor into the room on the 
other side. The screen which protected the entrance of 
this room was partly folded, and the curtains which usually 
concealed the divan had, owing to the great heat, been hooked 
up out of the way, so that he had an excellent view. 

The lady sitting near the lamp, half-leaning against the 
middle pillar must, he supposed, be his beloved. He looked 
closely at her. She seemed to be wearing an unlined, dark 
purple dress, with some kind of scarf thrown over her 
shoulders. The poise of her head was graceful, but her 
extreme smallness had the effect of making her seem some- 
what insignificant. She seemed to be trying all the while 
to hide her face from her companion, and there was something 
furtive about the movements of her slender hands, which 
she seemed never to show for more than a moment. 

Her companion was sitting right opposite him, and he 
could see her perfectly. She wore an underdress of thin 
white stuff, and thrown carelessly over it a cloak embroidered 
with red and blue flowers. The dress was not fastened in 
front, showing a bare neck and breast, showing even the 
little red sash which held up her drawers. She had indeed 
an engagingly free and easy air. Her skin was very white 
and delicate, she was rather plump, but tall and well built. 
The poise of her head and angle of her brow were faultless, 
the expression of her mouth and eyes was very pleasing 
and her appearance altogether most delightful. Her hair 
grew very thick, but was cut short so as to hang on a level 
with her shoulders. It was very fine and smooth. How 
exciting it must be to have such a girl for one’s daughter ! 
Small wonder if Iyo no Kami was proud of her. If she was 
a little less restless, he thought, she would be quite perfect. 

The game was nearly over, she was clearing away the 
unwanted pieces. She seemed to be very excitable and 


84 THE TALE OF GENJI 


was making a quite unnecessary commotion about the 
business. ‘ Wait a little’ said her companion very quietly, 
‘here there is a stalemate. My only move is to counter- 
attack over there...’ ‘It is all over’ said the other 
impatiently ‘ I am beaten, let us count the score;’ and she 
began counting, ‘ ten, twenty, thirty, forty’ on her fingers. 
Genji could not help remembering the old song about the 
wash-house at lyo (‘ eight tubs to the left, nine tubs to the 
right’) and as this lady of Iyo, determined that nothing 
should be left unsettled, went on stolidly counting her losses 
and gains, he thought her for the moment slightly common. 
It was strange to contrast her with Utsusemi,! who sat 
silent, her face half-covered, so that he could scarcely 
discern her features. But when he looked at her fixedly, 
she, as though uneasy under this gaze of which she was not 
actually aware, shifted in her seat, and showed him her full 
profile. Her eyelids gave the impression of being a little 
swollen, and there was at places a certain lack of delicacy 
in the lines of her features, while her good points were not 
visible. But when she began to speak, it was as though she 
were determined to make amends for the deficiencies of her 
appearance and show that she had, if not so much beauty, 
at any rate more sense than her companion. 

The latter was now flaunting her charms with more and 
more careless abandonment. Her continual laughter and 
high spirits were certainly rather engaging, and she seemed 
in her way to be a most entertaining person. He did not 
imagine that she was very virtuous, but that was far from 
being altogether a disadvantage. 

It amused him very much to see people behaving quite 
naturally together. He had lived in an atmosphere of 


: This name means ‘ cicada’ and is given to her later in the story in . 


reference to the scarf which she ‘ discarded as a cicada sheds its husk.’ 
But at this point it becomes grammatically important that she should 
have a name and I therefore anticipate. 


-* 


UTSUSEMI 85 


ceremony and reserve. This peep at everyday life was a 
most exciting novelty, and though he felt slightly uneasy 
at spying in this deliberate way upon two persons who had 
no notion that they were observed, he would gladly have 
gone on looking, when suddenly the boy, who had been 
sitting by his sister’s side, got up, and Genji slipped back 
again into his proper hiding-place. The boy was full of 
apologies at having left him waiting for so long: ‘ But I 
am afraid nothing can be done to-day ; there is still a visitor 
in her room.’ ‘And am I now to go home again?’ said 
Genji; ‘that is really too much to ask.’ ‘No, no, stay 
here, I will try what can be done, when the visitor has gone.’ 
Genji felt quite sure that the boy would manage to find some 
way of cajoling his sister, for he had noticed that though a 
mere child, he had a way of quietly observing situations 
and characters, and making use of his knowledge. 

The game of go must now be over. A rustling of skirts 
and pattering of feet showed that the household was not 
retiring to rest. ‘ Where is the young master?’ Genji 
heard a servant saying, ‘I am going to fasten this partition 
door,’ and there was the sound of bolts being slipped. ‘ They 
have all gone to bed’ said Genji, ‘ now is the time to think 
of a plan.’ The boy knew that it would be no use arguing 
with his sister or trying beforehand in any way to bend her 
obstinate resolution. The best thing to be done under the 
circumstances was to wait till no one was about, and then 
lead Genji straight to her. ‘Is Ki no Kami’s sister still 
here ?’ asked Genji, ‘I should like just to catch a glimpse 
of her.’ ‘But that is impossible’ said the boy ‘She is 
in my sister’sroom.’ ‘ Indeed ’ said Genji, affecting surprise. 
For though he knew very well where she was he did not 
wish to show that he had already seen her. Becoming very 
impatient of all these delays, he pointed out that it was 
growing very late, and there was no time to be lost. 


86 THE TALE OF GENJI 


The boy nodded, and tapping on the main door of the 
women’s quarters, he entered. Everyone was sound asleep. 
‘I am going to sleep in the ante-room’ the boy said out 
loud; ‘ Ishall leave the door open so as to make a draught ;’ 
_ and so saying he spread his mattress on the ground, and for 
a while pretended to be asleep. Soon however, he got up 
and spread a screen as though to protect him from the 
light, and under its shadow Genji slipped softly into the 
room. 

Not knowing what was to happen next, and much doubting 
whether any good would come of the venture, with great 
trepidation he followed the boy to the curtain that screened 
the main bedroom, and pulling it aside entered on tip-toe. 
But even in the drab garments which he had chosen for his 
disguise, he seemed to the boy to cut a terribly conspicuous 
figure as he passed through the midnight quietness of the 
house. 

Utsusemi meanwhile had persuaded herself that she was 
very glad Genji had forgotten to pay his threatened visit. 
But she was still haunted by the memory of their one 
strange and dreamlike meeting, and was in no mood for 
sleep. But near her, as she lay tossing, the lady of the go 
party, delighted by her visit and all the opportunities it 
had afforded for chattering to her heart’s content, was 
already asleep. And as she was young and had no troubles 
she slept very soundly. The princely scent which still 
clung to Genji’s person reached the bed. Utsusemi raised 
her head, and fancied that she saw something move behind 
a part of the curtain that was only of one thickness. Though 
it was very dark she recognized Genji’s figure. Filled with 
a sudden terror and utter bewilderment, she sprang from 
the bed, threw a fragile gauze mantle over her shoulders, and 
fled silently from the room. 

A moment later Genji entered. He saw with delight that 


UTSUSEMI 87 


there was only one person in the room, and that the bed was 
arranged for two. He threw off his cloak, and advanced 
towards the sleeping figure. She seemed a more imposing 
figure than he had expected, but this did not trouble him. 
It did indeed seem rather strange that she should be so sound 
asleep. Gradually he realized with horror that it was not © 
she at all. ‘It is no use’ thought Genji ‘ saying that I have 
come to the wrong room, for I have no business anywhere 
here. Nor is it worth while pursuing my real lady, for she 
would not have vanished like this if she cared a straw about 
me.’ What if it were the lady he had seen by the lamp- 
light ? She might not after all prove a bad exchange! 
But no sooner had he thought this than he was horrified 
at his own frivolity. 

She opened her eyes. She was naturally somewhat 
startled, but did not seem to be at all seriously put out. 
She was a thoughtless creature in whose life no very strong 
emotion had ever played a part. Hers was the flippancy 
that goes with inexperience, and even this sudden visitation 
did not seem very much to perturb her. 

He meant at first to explain that it was not to see her 
that he had come. But to do so would have been to give 
away the secret which Utsusemi so jealously guarded from 
the world. There was nothing for it, but to pretend that 
his repeated visits to the house, of which the lady was well 
aware, had been made in the hope of meeting her! This 
was a story which would not have withstood the most 
cursory examination; but, outrageous as it was, the girl 
accepted it without hesitation. 

_ He did not by any means dislike her, but at that moment 
all his thoughts were busy with the lady who had so mysteri- 
ously vanished. No doubt she was congratulating herself 
in some safe hiding-place upon the absurd situation in which 
she had left him. Really, she was the most obstinate 


88 THE TALE OF GENJI 


creature in the world! What was the use of running after 
her? But all the same she continued to obsess him. 

But the girl in front of him was young and gay and 
charming. They were soon getting on very well together. 

‘Ts not this kind of thing much more amusing than what 
happens with people whom one knows?’ asked Genji a 
little later. ‘ Do not think unkindly of me. Our meeting 
must for the present remain a secret. JI am in a position 
which does not always allow me to act as I please. Your 
people too would no doubt interfere if they should hear 
of it, which would be very tiresome. Wait patiently, 
and do not forget me.’ These rather tee did 
not strike her as at all unsatisfactory, and she ‘answered 
very seriously ‘I am afraid it will not be very easy for me 
even to write to you. People would think it very odd.’ 
‘Of course we must not let ordinary people into our secret ’ 
he answered, ‘ but there is no reason why this little page 
should not sometimes carry a message. Meanwhile not 
a word to anyone!’ And with that he left her, taking as he 
did so Utsusemi’s thin scarf which had slipped from her 
shoulders when she fled fromsthe room. 

He went to wake his page who was lying not far away. 
The boy sprang instantly to his feet, for he was sleeping 
very lightly, not knowing when his help might be required. 
He opened the door as quietly as he could. ‘ Whois that ?’ 
someone called out in great alarm. It was the voice of an 
old woman who worked in the house. ‘It is I’ answered 
the boy uneasily. ‘What are you walking about here for 
at this time of night ?’ and scolding as she came, she began 
to advance towards the door. ‘ Bother her’ thought the 
boy, but he answered hastily ‘It’s all right, I am only going 
outside for a minute;’ but just as Genji passed through the 
door, the moon of dawn suddenly emerged in all her bright- 
ness. Seeing a grown man’s figure appear in the doorway 


UTSUSEMI 89 


‘Whom have you got with you ?’ the old lady asked, and 
then answering her own question ‘ Why it is Mimbu! what 
an outrageous height that girl has grown to! ’ and continuing 
to imagine that the boy was walking with Mimbu, a maid- 
servant whose lankiness was a standing joke in the house, 
“and you will soon be as big as she is, little Master!’ she 
cried, and so saying came out through the door that they 
had just passed through. Genji felt very uncomfortable, 
and making no answer on the supposed Mimbu’s behalf, 
he stood in the shadow at the end of the corridor, hiding 
himself as best he could. ‘ You have been on duty, haven’t 
you dear?’ said the old lady as she came towards them. 
“I have been terribly bad with the colic since yesterday and 
was lying up, but they were shorthanded last night, and I 
had to go and help, though I did feel very queer all the 
while.’ And then, without waiting for them to answer, 
‘Oh, my pain, my poor pain’ she muttered ‘I can’t stop 
here talking like this’ and she hobbled past them without 
looking up. 

So narrow an escape made Genji wonder more than ever 
whether the whole thing was worth while. He drove back 
to his house, with the boy riding as his postillion. 

Here he told him the story of his evening’s adventure. 
_ “A pretty mess you made of it!’ And when he had finished 
scolding the boy for his incompetence, he began to rail at 
the sister’s irritating prudishness. The poor child felt very 
unhappy, but could think of nothing to say in his own or 
_ his sister’s defence. 

“I am utterly wretched’ said Genji. ‘ It is obvious that 
she would not have behaved as she did last night unless she 
absolutely detested me. But she might at least have the 
decency to send civil answers to my letters. Oh, well, I 
suppose Iyo no Kami is the better man . . .”. So he spoke, 
thinking that she desired only to be rid of him. Yet when 


90 THE TALE OF GENJI 


at last he lay down to rest, he was wearing her scarf hidden 
under his dress. He had put the boy by his side, and after 
giving much vent to his exasperation, he said at last ‘I 
am very fond of you, but I am afraid in future I shall always 
think of you in connection with this hateful business, and 
that will put an end to our friendship.’ He said it with 
such conviction that the boy felt quite forlorn. 

For a while they rested, but Genji could not sleep, and at 
dawn he sent in haste for his ink-stone. He did not write 
a proper letter, but scribbled on a piece of folded paper, in 
the manner of a writing exercise, a poem in which he com- 
pared the scarf which she had dropped in her flight to the 
dainty husk which the cicada sheds on some bank beneath 
a tree. 

The boy picked the paper up, and thrust it into the folds 
of his dress. 

Genji was very much distressed at the thought of what 
the other lady’s feelings must be; but after some reflection 
he decided that it would be better not to send any message. 

The scarf, to which still clung the delicate perfume of its 
owner, he wore for long afterwards beneath his dress. 

When the boy got home he found his sister waiting for 
him in very ill-humour. ‘It was not your doing that 
I escaped from the odious quandary in which you landed 
me! And even so pray what explanation can I offer to my 
friend?’ ‘A fine little clown the Prince must think you 
now. I hope you are ashamed of yourself.’ 

Despite the fact that both parties were using him so ill, 
the boy drew the rescued verses from out the folds of his 
dress and handed them to her. She could not forbear to 
read them. What of this discarded mantle ? Why should 
he speak of it? The coat that the fishers of Iseo left lying 
upon the shore . . .t those were the words that came into 


t Allusion to the old poem, ‘ Does he know that since he left me my 
eyes are wet as the coat that the fishers . . . left lying upon the shore ? ’ 


UTSUSEMI 91 


her mind, but they were not the clue. She was sorely 
puzzled. 

Meanwhile the Lady of the West! was feeling very ill 
at ease. She was longing to talk about what had happened, 
but must not do so, and had to bear the burden of her 
impatience all alone. The arrival of Utsusemi’s brother 
put her into a great state of excitement. No letter for her ? 
she could not understand it at all, and for the first time a 
cloud settled upon her gay confiding heart. 

Utsusemi, though she had so fiercely steeled herself against 
his love, seeing such tenderness hidden under the words of 
his message, again fell to longing that she were free, and 
though there was no undoing what was done she found it 
so hard to go without him that she took up the folded 
paper and wrote in the margin a poem in which she said 
that her sleeve, so often wet with tears, was like the cicada’s 
dew-drenched wing. 


1 The visitor. 


CHAPTER IV 
YUGAO 


T was at the time when he was secretly visiting the 
lady of the Sixth Ward.t One day on his way back 
from the Palace he thought that he would call upon his 
foster-mother who, having for a long while been very ill, 
had become a nun. She lived in the Fifth Ward. After 
many enquiries he managed to find the house; but the 
front gate was locked and he could not drive in. He sent 
one of his servants for Koremitsu, his foster-nurse’s son, 
and while he was waiting began to examine the rather 
wretched looking by-street. The house next door was 
fenced with a new paling, above which at one place were 
four or five panels of open trellis-work, screened by blinds 
which were very white and bare. Through chinks in these 
blinds a number of foreheads could be seen. They seemed 
to belong to a group of ladies who must be peeping with 
interest into the street below. 

At first he thought they had merely peeped out as they 
passed ; but he soon realized that if they were standing 
on the floor they must be giants. No, evidently they had 
taken the trouble to climb on to some table or bed ; which 
was surely rather odd ! 

He had come in a plain coach with no outriders. No one 
could possibly guess who he was, and feeling quite at his 


t Lady Rokujd. Who she was gradually becomes apparent in the 


course of the story. 
92 


YUGAO 93 


ease he leant forward and deliberately examined the house. 
The gate, also made of a kind of trellis-work, stood ajar, 
and he could see enough of the interior to realize that it 
was a very humble and poorly furnished dwelling. For 
a moment he pitied those who lived in such a place, but 
then he remembered the song ‘ Seek not in the wide world 
to find a home ; but where you chance to rest, call that your 
house’; and again, ‘ Monarchs may keep their palaces of 
jade, for in a leafy cottage two can sleep.’ 

There was a wattled fence over which some ivy-like creeper 
spread its cool green leaves, and among the leaves were 
white flowers with petals half unfolded like the lips of 
people smiling at their own thoughts. ‘ They are called 
Yiigao, ‘“‘ Evening Faces,’”’’ one of his servants told him ; 
‘how strange to find so lovely a crowd clustering on this 
deserted wall!’ And indeed it was a most strange and 
delightful thing to see how on the narrow tenement in a 
poor quarter of the town they had clambered over rickety 
eaves and gables and spread wherever there was room for 
them to grow. He sent one of his servants to pick some. 
The man entered at the half-opened doorg and had begun 
to pluck the flowers, when a little girl in a long yellow tunic 
came through a quite genteel sliding door, and holding 
out towards Genji’s servant a white fan heavily perfumed 
with incense, she said to him ‘ Would you like something 
to put them on? I am afraid you have chosen a wretched- 
looking bunch,’ and she handed him the fan. Just as he 
was opening the gate on his way back, the old nurse’s son 
Koremitsu came out of the other house full of apologies 
for having kept Genji waiting so long—‘I could not find 
the key of the gate’ he said. ‘ Fortunately the people of 
this humble quarter were not likely to recognize you and 
press or stare; but I am afraid you must have been very 
much bored waiting in this hugger-mugger back street,’ 


J 


94 THE TALE OF GENJI 


and he conducted Genji into the house. Koremitsu’s 
brother, the deacon, his brother-in-law Mikawa no Kami © 
and his sister all assembled to greet the Prince, delighted 
by a visit with which they had not thought he was ever 
likely to honour them again. 

The nun too rose from her couch: ‘ For a long time I had 
been waiting to give up the world, but one thing held me 
back: I wanted you to see your old nurse just once again as 
you used to know her. You never came to see me, and at 
last I gave up waiting and took my vows. Now, in reward 
for the penances which my Order enjoins, I have got back 
a little of my health, and having seen my dear young master 
again, I can wait with a quiet mind for the Lord Amida’s 
Light,’ and in her weakness she shed a few tears. 

“I heard some days ago ’ said Genji ‘ that you were very 
dangerously ill, and was in great anxiety. It is sad now | 
to find you in this penitential garb. You must live longer 
yet, and see me rise in the world, that you may be born 
again high in the ninth sphere of Amida’s Paradise. For 
they say that those who died with longings unfulfilled are 
burdened with an evil Karma in their life to come.’ 

People such as old nurses regard even the most black- 
guardly and ill-favoured foster-children as prodigies of 
beauty and virtue. Small wonder then if Genji’s nurse, who 
had played so great a part in his early life, always regarded 
her office as immensely honourable and important, and tears 
of pride came into her eyes while he spoke to her. 

The old lady’s children thought it very improper that 
their mother, having taken holy orders, should show so lively 
an interest in a human career. Certain that Genji himself 
would be very much shocked, they exchanged uneasy 
glances. He was on the contrary deeply touched. ‘ When 
I was a child’ he said ‘ those who were dearest to me were 
early taken away, and although there were many who gave 


YUOGAO 95 


a hand to my upbringing, it was to you only, dear nurse, 
that I was deeply and tenderly attached. When I grew up 
I could not any longer be often in your company. I have 
not even been able to come here and see you as often as I 
wanted to. But in all the long time which has passed since 
I was last here, I have thought a great deal about you and 
wished that life did not force so many bitter partings upon 
us.’ 

So he spoke tenderly. The princely scent of the sleeve 
which he had raised to brush away his tears filled the low 
and narrow room, and even the young people, who had till 
now been irritated by their mother’s obvious pride at having 
been the nurse of so splendid a prince, found themselves 
in tears. 

Having arranged for continual masses to be said on the 
sick woman’s behalf, he took his leave, ordering Koremitsu 
to light him with a candle. As they left the house he looked 
at the fan upon which the white flowers had been laid. 
He now saw that there was writing on it, a poem carelessly 
but elegantly scribbled: ‘ The flower that puzzled you was 
but the Y#gao, strange beyond knowing in its dress of shining 
dew.’ It was written with a deliberate negligence which 
seemed to aim at concealing the writer’s status and identity. 
But for all that the hand showed a breeding and distinction 
which agreeably surprised him. ‘ Who lives in the house on 
the left ?’ he asked. Koremitsu, who did not at all want 
to act as a go-between, replied that he had only been at his 
mother’s for five or six days and had been so much occupied 


by her illness that he had not asked any questions about » 


the neighbours. ‘I want to know for a quite harmless 
reason’ said Gengi. ‘ There is something about this fan 
which raises a rather important point. I positively must 
settle it. You would oblige me by making enquiries from 
someone who knows the neighbourhood.’ JKoremitsu 


al 


96 THE TALE OF GENJI 


went at once to the house next door and sent for the steward. 
‘This house’ the man said ‘ belongs to a certain Titular- 
Prefect. He is living in the country, but my lady is 
still here; and as she is young and loves company, her 
brothers who are in service at the Court often come here 
to visit her.’ ‘ And that is about all one can expect a servant 
to know’ said Koremitsu when he repeated this information. 
It occurred at once to Genji that it was one of these Courtiers 
who had written the poem. Yes, there was certainly a 
self-confident air in the writing. It was by someone whose 
rank entitled him to have a good opinion of himself. But 
he was romantically disposed ; it was too painful to dismiss 
altogether the idea that, after all, the verses might really 
have been meant for him, and on a folded paper he wrote : 
“Could I but get a closer view, no longer would they puzzle 
me—the flowers that all too dimly in the gathering dusk 
I saw.’ This he wrote in a disguised hand and gave to his 
servant. The man reflected that though the senders of 
the fan had never seen Genji before, yet so well known 
were his features, that even the glimpse they had got from 
the window might easily have revealed to them his identity. 
He could imagine the excitement with which the fan had been 
despatched and the disappointment when for so long a time 
no answer came. His somewhat rudely belated arrival 
would seem to them to have been purposely contrived. They 
would all be agog to know what was in the reply, and he felt 
very nervous as he approached the house. 

Meanwhile, lighted only by a dina torch, Genji quietly 
left his nufse’s home. The blinds of a house were 
now drawn and only the fire-fly glimmer of a candle shone 
through the gap between them. . 

When he reached his destination ! a very different scene 
met his eyes. A handsome park, a well-kept eagen how 


* Lady Rokujé’s house, 


YUGAO 97 


spacious and comfortable it all was! And soon the mag- 
nificent owner of these splendours had driven from his head 
all thought of the wooden paling, the shutters and the 
flowers. 

He stayed longer than he intended, and the sun was 
already up when he set out for home. Again he passed 
the house with the shutters. He had driven through the 
quarter countless times without taking the slightest interest 
in it; but that one small episode of the fan had sud- 
denly made his daily passage through these streets 
an event of great importance. He looked about him 
eagerly, and would have liked to know who lived in all 
the houses. 

For several days Koremitsu did not present himself at 
Genji’s palace. When at last he came, he explained that 
his mother was growing much weaker and it was very difficult 
for him to get away. Then drawing nearer, he said in a 
low voice ‘I made some further enquiries, but could not 
find out much. It seems that someone came very secretly 
in June and has been living there ever since ; but who she 
really is not even her owa servants know. I have once or 
twice peeped through a hole in the hedge and caught a 
- glimpse of some young women ; but their skirts were rolled 
_ back and tucked in at their belts, so I think they must have 
been waiting-maids. Yesterday some while after sunset 
‘I saw a lady writing a letter. Her face was calm, but she 
looked very unhappy, and I noticed that some of her 
women were secretly weeping.’ Genji was more curious 
than ever ~ : 

Though: his matt was of a rank which brought with 
it great responsibilities, Koremitsu knew that in view of his 
youth and popularity the young prince would be thought 
to be positively neglecting his duty if he did not indulge 
in a feW escapades, and that everyone would regard his 





98 THE TALE OF GENJI 


conduct as perfectly natural and proper even when it was 
such as they would not have dreamed of permitting to 
ordinary people. 

‘Hoping to get a little further information,’ he said, 
‘I found an excuse for communicating with her, and received 
in reply a very well-worded answer in a cultivated hand. 
She must be a girl of quite good position.’ ‘ You must find 
out more’ said Genji; ‘I shall not be happy till I know all 
about her.’ 

Here perhaps was just such a case as they had imagined 
on that rainy night: a lady whose outward circumstances 
seemed to place her in that ‘ Lowest Class’ which they had 
agreed to dismiss as of no interest; but who in her own 
person showed qualities by no means despicable. 

But to return fora moment to Utsusemi. Her unkindness 
had not affected him as it would have affected most people. 
If she had encouraged him he would soon have regarded the 
affair as an appalling indiscretion which he must put an end 
to at all costs; whereas now he brooded continually upon 
his defeat and was forever plotting new ways to shake her 
resolution. 

He had never, till the day of his visit to the foster-nurse, 
been interested in anyone of quite the common classes, 
But now, since that rainy night’s conversation, he had 
explored (so it seemed to him) every corner of society, 
including in his survey even those categories which his 
friends had passed over as utterly remote and improbable. 
He thought of the lady who had, so to speak, been thrown 
into his life as an extra. With how confiding an air she had 
promised that she would wait! He was very sorry about 
her, but he was afraid that if he wrote to her Utsusemi 
might find out and that would prejudice his chances. He 
would write to her afterwards... . 


Suddenly at this point Iyo no Suke himself was announced. 


YUGAO 99 


He had just returned from his province, and had lost no time 
in paying his respects to the prince. The long journey by 
boat had made him look rather swarthy and haggard. 
‘ Really ’ thought Genji ‘ he is not at all an attractive man ! ’ 
Still it was possible to talk to him ; for if a man is of decent 
birth and breeding, however broken he may be by age or 
misfortune, he will always retain a certain refinement of 
mind and manners which prevent him from becoming 
merely repulsive. They were beginning to discuss the affairs 
of Iyo’s province and Genji was even joking with him, when 
a sudden feeling of embarrassment came over him. Why 
should those recollections make him feel so awkward ? 
Iyo no Suke was quite an old man, it had done him no harm. 
‘These scruples are absurd’ thought Genji. However, 
she was right in thinking it was too queer, too ill-assorted 
a match; and remembering Uma no Kami’s warnings, he 
felt that he had behaved badly. Though her unkindness 
still deeply wounded him, he was almost glad for Iyo’s sake 
that she had not relented. 

‘My daughter is to be married’ Iyo was saying ‘ And I 
am going to take my wife back with me to my province.’ 
Here was a double surprise. At all costs he must see Utsu- 
semi once again. He spoke with her brother and the boy 
_ discussed the matter with her. It would have been difficult 
enough for anyone to have carried on an intrigue with the 
prince under such circumstances as these. But for her, 
so far below him in rank and beset by new restrictions, it 
had now become unthinkable. She could not however 
bear to lose all contact with him, and not only did 
she answer his letters much more kindly than before, 
but took pains, though they were written with apparent 
negligence, to add little touches that would give him 
pleasure and make him see that she still cared for him. 
All this he noticed, and though he was vexed that she would 


100 THE TALE OF GENJI 


not relent towards him, he found it impossible to put her 
out of his mind. 

As for the other girl, he did not think that she was at all 
the kind of person to go on pining for him once she was 
properly settled with a husband; and he now felt quite 
happy about her. 

It was autumn. Genji had brought so many compli- 
cations into his life that he had for some while been very 
irregular in his visits to the Great Hall, and was in great 
disgrace there. The lady! in the grand mansion was very 
difficult to get on with; but he had surmounted so many 
obstacles in his courtship of her that to give her up the 
moment he had won her seemed absurd. Yet he could 
not deny that the blind intoxicating passion which possessed 
him while she was still unattainable, had almost disappeared. 
To begin with, she was far too sensitive ; then there was the 
disparity of their ages,2 and the constant dread of discovery 
which haunted him during those painful partings at small 
hours of the morning. In fact, there were too many 
disadvantages. 

It was a morning when mist lay heavy over the garden. 
After being many times roused Genji at last came out of 
Rokuj6’s room, looking very cross and sleepy. One of the 
maids lifted part of the folding-shutter, seeming to invite 
her mistress to watch the prince’s departure. Rokujé 
pulled aside the bed-curtains and tossing her hair back over 
her shoulders looked out into the garden. So many lovely 
flowers were growing in the borders that Genji halted for 
a while to enjoy them. How beautiful he looked standing 
there, she thought. As he was nearing the portico the maid 
who had opened the shutters came and walked by his side. 
She wore a light green skirt exquisitely matched to the season 
and place; it was so hung as to show to great advantage 


t Rokujé. 2 Genji was now seventeen ; Rokuj6 twenty-four. 


YUGAO 101 


the grace and suppleness of her stride. Genji looked round 
at her. ‘ Let us sit down for a minute on the railing here 
in the corner,’ he said. ‘She seems very shy’ he thought, 
“but how charmingly her hair falls about her shoulders,’ 
and he recited the poem: ‘ Though I would not be thought 
to wander heedlessly from flower to flower, yet this morning’s 
pale convolvulus I fain would pluck!’ As he said the lines 
he took her hand and she answered with practised ease: 
“You hasten, I observe, to admire the morning flowers while 
the mist still lies about them,’ thus parrying the compliment 
by a verse which might be understood either in a personal 
or general sense. At this moment a very elegant page 
wearing the most bewitching baggy trousers came among 
the flowers brushing the dew as he walked, and began to 
pick a bunch of the convolvuli. Genji longed to paint the 
scene. 

No one could see him without pleasure. He was like the 
flowering tree under whose shade even the rude mountain 
peasant delights to rest. And so great was the fascination 
he exercised that those who knew him longed to offer 
him whatever was dearest to them. One who had a favourite 
daughter would ask for nothing better than to make her 
Genji’s handmaiden. Another who had an exquisite 
sister was ready for her to serve in his household, though it 
were at the most menial tasks. Still less could these ladies 
who on such occasions as this were privileged to converse 
with him and stare at him as much as they pleased, and were 
moreover young people of much sensibility—how could they 
fail to delight in his company and note with much uneasi- 
ness that his visits were becoming far less frequent than 
before ? 

But where have I got to? Ah, yes. Koremitsu had 
patiently continued the enquiry with which Genji entrusted 
him. ‘ Who the mistress is’ he said, ‘ I have not been able 


102 THE TALE OF GENJI 


to discover ; and for the most part she is at great pains 
not to show herself. But more than once in the general 
confusion, when there was the sound of a carriage coming 
along past that great row of tenement houses, and all the 
maid-servants were peering out into the road, the young lady 
whom I suppose to be the mistress of the house slipped out 
along with them. I could not see her clearly, but she seemed 
to be very pretty. 

“One day, seeing a carriage with outriders coming towards 
the house, one of the maids rushed off calling out “‘ Ukon, 
Ukon, come quickly and look. The Captain’s carriage is 
coming this way.’’ At once a pleasant-faced lady no longer 
young, came bustling out. ‘‘ Quietly, quietly ’’ she said 
holding up a warning finger; ‘‘ how do you know it is the 
Captain? I shall have to go and look,” and she slipped 
out. <A sort of rough drawbridge leads from the garden 
into the lane. In her excitement the good lady caught her 
skirt in it and falling flat on her face almost tumbled into 
the ditch: ‘‘ A bad piece of work His Holiness of Katsuragi ! 
made here! ’’ she grumbled ; but her curiosity did not seem 
to be at all damped and she stared harder than ever at the 
approaching carriage. The visitor was dressed in a plain, 
wide cloak. He had attendants with him, whose names the 
excited servant-girls called out as one after another they 
came near enough to be recognized; and the odd thing is 
that the names were certainly those of T6 no Chijdo’s? 
grooms and pages.’ 

‘I must see that carriage for myself’ said Genji. What 
if this should be the very lady whom Chijé, at the time of 
that rainy night’s conversation, despaired of rediscovering ? 
Koremitsu, noting that Genji was listening with particular 
attention continued: ‘I must tell you that I too have 


t The god of bridges. He built in a single night the stone causeway 
which joins Mount Katsuragi and Mount Kombu. 
2 Genji’s brother-in-law. 


ay F 
ae. 
at 
* " <7 

conte 


YUGAO 103 


_ reason to be interested in this house, and while making 
enquiries on my own account I discovered that the young 
lady always addresses the other girls in the house as though 
they were her equals. But when, pretending to be taken 
_in by this comedy, I began visiting there, I noticed that 
_ though the older ladies played their part very well, the young 
girls would every now and then curtsey or slip in a “ My 
Lady” without thinking; whereupon the others would 
_ hasten to cover up the mistake as best they might, saying 
~ anything they could think of to make it appear that there 
was no mistress among them,’ and Koremitsu laughed as he 
recollected it. 

“Next time I come to visit your mother’ said Genji, 
“you must let me have a chance of peeping at them.’ He 
pictured to himself the queer, tumbled-down house. She 
was only living there for the time being ; but all the same 
she must surely belong to that “‘ bottom class’ which they 
had dismissed as having no possible bearing on the discussion. 
How amusing it would be to show that they were wrong 
and that after all something of interest might be discovered 
in such a place ! 

Koremitsu, anxious to carry out his master’s every wish 
and intent also on his own intrigue, contrived at last by a 
_ series of ingenious stratagems to effect a secret meeting 
between Genji and the mysterious lady. The details of the 
plan by which he brought this about would make a tedious 
story, and as is my rule in such cases I have thought it 
better to omit them. 

Genji never asked her by what name he was to call her, 
nor did he reveal his own identity. He came very poorly 
dressed and—what was most unusual for him—on foot. 
But Koremitsu regarded this as too great a tribute to so 
unimportant a lady, and insisted upon Genji riding his horse, 
while he walked by his side. In doing so he sacrificed his 


.) 


104 THE TALE OF GENJI 


. 


own feelings ; for he too had reasons for wishing to create aml 


good impression in the house, and he knew that by arriving 
in this rather undignified way he would sink in the estimation 
of the inhabitants. Fortunately his discomfiture was 


attendant who had on the first occasion plucked the flower 


almost unwitnessed, for Genji took with him only the os 


—a boy whom no one was likely to recognize; and lest 
suspicions should be aroused, he did not even take advan- 
tage of his presence in the neighbourhood to call at his — 
foster-nurse’s house. 

The lady was very much mystified by all these precautions 
and made great efforts to discover something more about 
him. She even sent someone after him to see where he 
went to when he left her at day-break; but he succeeded 
in throwing his pursuer off the scent and she was no wiser 
than before. He was now growing far too fond of her. He 
was miserable if anything interfered with his visits; and 
though he utterly disapproved of his own conduct and 
worried a great deal about it, he soon found that he was 
spending most of his time at her house. 

He knew that at some time or another in their lives even 
the soberest people lose their heads in this way ; but hitherto 
he had never really lost his, or done anything which could 
possibly have been considered very wrong. Now to his 
astonishment and dismay he discovered that even the few 
morning hours during which he was separated from her 
were becoming unendurable. ‘ What is it in her that makes 
me behave like a madman?’ he kept on asking himself. 
She was astonishingly gentle and unassuming, to the point 
even of seeming rather apathetic, rather deficient perhaps 
in depth of character and emotion; and though she had a 
certain air of girlish inexperience, it was clear that he was 
not by any means her first lover; and certainly she was 
rather plebeian. What was it exactly that so fascinated 


i 2 YUGAO 105 


him ? He asked himself the question again and again, but 
found no answer. 
_ She for her part was very uneasy to see him come to her 
thus in shabby old hunting-clothes, trying always to hide 
his “ace, leaving while it was still dark and everyone was 
asleep. He seemed like some demon-lover in an old ghost- 
tale, and she was half-afraid. But his smallest gesture 
' showed that he was someone out of the ordinary, and she 
»egan to suspect that he was a person of high rank, who 
had used Koremitsu as his go-between. But Koremitsu 
obstinately pretended to know nuthing at all about his 
companion, and continued to amuse himself by frequenting 
the house on his own account. 

What could it mean? She was dismayed at this strange 
love-making with—she knew not whom. But about her 
too there was something fugitive, insubstantial. Genji was 
obsessed by the idea that, just as she had hidden herself 
in this place, so one day she would once more vanish and 
hide, and he would never be able to find her again. There © 
was every sign that her residence here was quite temporary. 
He was sure that when the time came to move she would 
not tell him where she was going. Of course her running 
away would be proof that she was not worth bothering 
about any more, and he ought, thankful for the pleasure 
they had had together, simply to leave the matter at that. 
But he knew that this was the last thing he would be likely 
to do. 

People were already beginning to be suspicious, and often 
for several nights running he was unable to visit her. This 
became so intolerable that in his impatience he determined 
to bring her secretly to the Nijo-in.t| There would be an 
appalling outcry if she were discovered ; but that must be 
risked. 


t His own palace. 


106 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘I am going to take you somewhere very nice where no 
one will disturb us’ he said at last. ‘ No, No’ shesgried ; 
‘ your ways are so strange, I should be frightened to go with 
you.’ She spoke in a tone of childish terror, and Genji 
answered smiling: ‘ One or the other of us must bea fox- 
in-disguise.t Here is a chance to find out which it is!’ 
He spoke very kindly, and suddenly, in a tone of absolute 
submission, she consented to do whatever he thought best. 
He could not but be touched at her willingness to follow 
him in what must appear to her to be the most hazardous 
and bizarre adventure. Again he thought of T6 no Chijo’s 
story on that rainy night, and could not doubt that this must 
indeed be Chiijo’s fugitive lady. But he saw that she had 
some reason for wishing to avoid all questions about her 
past, and he restrained his curiosity. So far as he could see 
she showed no signs of running away; nor did he believe 
that she would do so as long as he was faithful. T6 no 
Chijo, after all, had for months on end left her to her own 
devices. But he felt that if for an instant she suspected 
him of the slightest leaning in any other direction it would 
be a bad business. 

It was the fifteenth night of the eighth month. The light 
of an unclouded full-moon shone between the ill-fitting 
planks of the roof and flooded the room. What a queer place 
to be lying in! thought Genji, as he gazed round the garret, 
so different from any room he had ever known before. It 
must be almost day. In the neighbouring houses people 
were beginning to stir, and there was an uncouth sound of 
peasant voices: ‘Eh! how cold it is! I can’t believe we 
shall do much with the crops this year.’ ‘I don’t know 
what’s going to happen about my carrying-trade’ said 
another; ‘things look very bad.’ Then (banging on the 


t Foxes, dressed up as men, were believed to be in the habit of 
seducing and bewitching human beings. 


YOGAO 107 


wall of another house) ‘ Wake up, neighbour. Time to start. 
Did he hear, d’you think?’ and they rose and went off 
each to the wretched task by which he earned his bread. 
vy») ‘1 this clatter and bustle going on so near her made the 
lat very uncomfortable, and indeed so dainty and fastidious 
a person must often in this miserable lodging have suffered 
things which would make her long to sink through the floor. 
But however painful, disagreeable or provoking were the 
things that happened, she gave no sign of noticing them. 
That being herself so shrinking and delicate in her ways 
she could yet endure without a murmur the exasperating 
banging and bumping that was going on in every direction, 
aroused his admiration, and he felt that this was much 
nicer of her than if she had shuddered with horror at each 
sound. But now, louder than thunder, came the noise of 
the threshing-mills, seeming so near that they could hardly 
believe it did not come from out of the pillow itself. Genji 
thought that his ears would burst. What many of the noises 
were he could not at all make out; but they were very 
peculiar and startling. The whole air seemed to be full of 
crashings and bangings. Now from one side, now from 
another, came too the faint thud of the bleacher’s mallet, 
and the scream of w:ld geese passing overhead. It was all 
too distracting. 

Their room was in the front of the house. Genji got up 
and opened the long, sliding shutters. They stood together 
looking out. In the courtyard near them was a clump of 
fine Chinese bamboos,; dew lay thick on the borders, glitter- 
ing here no less brightly than in the great gardens to which 
Genji was better accustomed. There was a confused buzzing 
of insects. Crickets were chirping in the wall. He had 
often listened to them, but always at a distance; now,,. 
singing so close to him, they made a music which was 
unfamiliar and indeed seemed far lovelier than that with 


108 THE TALE OF GENJI 


which he was acquainted. But then, everything in this 
place where one thing was so much to his liking, seemed 
despite all drawbacks to take on a new tinge of interest and 
beauty. She was wearing a white bodice with a soft, grey 
cloak over it. It was a poor dress, but she looked charming 
and almost distinguished ; even so, there was nothing very 
striking in her appearance—only a certain fragile grace and 
elegance. It was when she was speaking that she looked 
really beautiful, there was such pathos, such earnestness 
in her manner. If only she had a little more spirit! But 
ev as she was he found her irresistible and longed to take 
her esome place where no one could disturb them: ‘I 
am going to take you somewhere not at all far away where 
we shall be alle to pass the rest of the night in peace. We 
cannot go on ‘fke this, parting always at break of day.’ 
“Why have you suddenly come to that conclusion ? ’ 
she asked, but she spoke submissively. He vowed to her 
that she should be his love in this and in all future lives and 
she answered so passionately that she seemed utterly trans- 
formed from the listless creature he had known, and it was 
hard to believe that such vows were no novelty to her. 
Discarding all prudence he sent for the maid Ukon and 
bade her order his servants to fetch a coach. The affair 
was soon known to all the household, and the ladies were 
at first somewhat uneasy at seeing their mistress carried 
off in this fashion ; but on the whole they did not think he 
looked the sort of person who would do her any harm. It 
was now almost daylight. The cocks had stopped crowing. 
The voice of an old man (a pilgrim preparing for the ascent 
of the Holy Mountain) sounded somewhere not far away ; 
and, as at each prayer he bent forward to touch the ground 
with his head, they could hear with what pain and difficulty 
he moved. What could he be asking for in his prayers, this 
old man whose life seemed fragile as the morning dew ? 


YUGAO 109 


NAMU TORAI NO DOsuI ‘ Glory be to the Saviour that shall 
come’: now they could hear the words. ‘Listen,’ said) 


Genji tenderly, ‘is not that an omen that our love shall 
last through many lives to come?’ And he recited the 
poem: ‘Do not prove false this omen of the pilgrim’s 
chant: that even in lives to come our love shall last 
unchanged.’ ul 

Then unlike the lovers in the ‘ Everlasting Wrong’ 
who prayed that they might be as the ‘ twin birds that 
share a wing ’ (for they remembered that this story had ended 
very sadly) they prayed ‘ May our love last till Maitreva 
comes as a Buddha into the World.’ But she, still dis. ust- 
ful, answered his poem with the verse: ‘ Such sorrow have 
I known in this world that I have small hope of worlds to 
come.’ Her versification was still a little teniative.: 

She was thinking with pleasure that the setting moon 
would light them on their way, and Genji was just saying 
so when suddenly the moon disappeared behind a bank of 
clouds. But there was still great beauty in the dawning 
sky. Anxious to be gone before it was quite light, he hurried 
her away to the coach and put Ukon by her side. 

They drove to an untenanted mansion which was not far 
off. While he waited for the steward to come out Genji 
noticed that the gates were crumbling away ; dense shinobu- 
grass grew around them. ‘So sombre an entrance he had 
never seen. There was a thick mist and the dew was so 
heavy that when he raised the carriage-blind his sleeve was 
drenched. ‘Never yet has such an adventure as this 
befallen me’ said Genji; ‘so I am, as you may imagine, 
rather excited,’ and he made a poem in which he said that 
though love’s folly had existed since the beginning of the 
world, never could man have set out more rashly at the 
break of day into a land unknown. ‘ But to you this is no 


t We gather later that she was only nineteen. 


110 THE TALE OF GENJI 


great novelty ?’ She blushed and in her turn made a poem : 
“IT am as the moon that walks the sky not knowing what 
menace the cruel hills may hold in store; high though she 
sweeps, her light may suddenly be blotted out.’ 

She seemed very depressed and nervous. But this he 
attributed to the fact that she had probably always lived 
in small houses where everything was huddled together, 
and he was amused at the idea that this large mansion should 
overawe her. They drove in, and while a room was being 
got ready they remained in the carriage which had been 
drawn up alongside of the balustrade. Ukon, looking 
very innocent all the while, was inwardly comparing this 
excursion with her mistress’s previous adventures. She 
had noticed the tone of extreme deference with which this 
latest lover had been received by the steward, and had 
begun to draw her own conclusions. 

The mist was gradually clearing away. They left the 
coach and went into the room which had been prepared for 
them. Though so quickly improvised, their quarters were 
admirably clean and well-provided, for the steward’s son 
had previously been a trusted house-servant of Genji’s 
and had also worked at the Great Hall. Coming now to 
their room he offered to send for some of Genji’s gentlemen, 
‘For’ he said ‘ I cannot bear to see you going unattended.’ 
‘Do nothing of the kind’ said Genji; ‘I have come here 
because I do not wish to be disturbed. No one but yourself 
is to know that I have used this house,’ and he exacted a 
promise of absolute secrecy. No regular meal had been 
prepared, but the steward brought them a little rice porridge. 
Then they lay down again to sleep together for the first 
time in this unfamiliar and so strangely different place. 

The sun was high when they woke. Genji went and opened 
the shutters himself. How deserted the garden looked ! 
Certainly here there was no one to spy upon them. He 


YOGAO 111 


looked out into the distance: dense woods fast turning to 
jungle. And nearer the house not a flower or bush, but only 
unkempt, autumn grasslands, and a pond choked with weeds. 
It was a wild and desolate place. It seemed that the steward 
and his men must live in some outbuilding or lodge at a 
distance from the house ; for here there was no sign or sound 
of life. ‘It is, I must own, a strange and forsaken place 
to which we have come. But no ghost or evil fairy will 
dare molest you while J am here.’ 

It pained her very much that he still was masked ;! 
and indeed such a precaution was quite out of keeping with 
the stage at which they had now arrived. So at last, reciting 
a poem in which he reminded her that all their love down to 
this moment when ‘the flower: opened its petals to the 
evening dew’ had come from a chance vision seen casually 
from the street, half-turning his face away, for a moment 
he let her see him unmasked. ‘ What of the “ shining 
dew ’”’’ he asked using the words that she had written on 
the fan. ‘ How little knew I of its beauty who had but 
in the twilight doubted and guessed ...!’; so she 
answered his poem in a low and halting voice. She need 
not have feared, for to him, poor as the verses were, they 
seemed delightful. And indeed the beauty of his uncovered 
face, suddenly revealed to her in this black wilderness of 
dereliction and decay, surpassed all loveliness that she had 
ever dreamed of or imagined. ‘I cannot wonder that while 
I still set this barrier between us, you did not choose to tell 
me all that I longed to know. But now it would be very 
unkind of you not to tell me your name.’ ‘I am like the 
fisherman’s daughter in the song’? she said, ‘‘“‘I have 
no name or home.”’’ But for all that she would not tell 
him who she was, she seemed much comforted that he had 


t I.e. covered part of his face with a scarf or the like, a practice usual 
with illicit lovers in medieval Japan. 
a Shin Kokinshi, 1701. 


112 THE TALE OF GENJI 


let her see him. ‘Do as you please about it’ said Genji 
at last; but for a while he was out of temper. Soon they 
had made it up again; and so the day passed. Presently 
Koremitsu came to their quarters, bringing fruit and other 
viands. He would not come in, for he was frightened that 
Ukon would rate him mercilessly for the part he had played 
in arranging the abduction of her mistress. He had now 
come to the conclusion that the Lady must possess charms 
which he had wholly overlooked, or Genji would certainly 
never have taken all this trouble about her, and he was 
touched at his own magnanimity in surrendering to his 
master a prize which he might well have kept for himself. 
It was an evening of marvellous stillness. Genji sat 
watching the sky. The lady found the inner room where 
she was sitting depressingly dark and gloomy. He raised 
the blinds of the front room, and came to sit with her. 
They watched the light of the sunset glowing in each 
other’s eyes, and in her wonder at his adorable beauty and 
tenderness she forgot all her fears. At last she was shy 
with him no longer, and he thought that the new-found - 
boldness and merriment became her very well. She lay by 
his side till night. He saw that she was again wearing 
the plaintive expression of a frightened child; so quickly 
closing the partition-door he brought in the great lamp, 
saying: ‘ Outwardly you are no longer shy with me; but 
I can see that deep down in your heart there is still some 
sediment of rancour and distrust. It is not kind to use me 
so,’ and again he was cross with her. 

What were the people at the Palace thinking? Would 
he have been sent for? How far would the messengers 
pursue their search? He became quite agitated. Then 
there was the great lady in the Sixth Ward.t_ What a frenzy 
she must be in! This time, however, she really had good 


t Lady Rokujo. 


YOGAO 113 


cause to be jealous. These and other unpleasant considera- 
tions were crowding into his head, when looking at the girl 
who lay beside him so trustfully, unconscious of all that 
was going on in his mind, he was suddenly filled with an 
overwhelming tenderness towards her. How tiresome the 
other was, with her eternal susceptibilities, jealousies and 
suspicions! For a while at any rate he would stop seeing 
her. As the night wore on they began sometimes to doze. 
Suddenly Genji saw standing over him the figure of a woman, 
tall and majestic: “ You who think yourself so fine, how 
comes it that you have brought to toy with you here this 
worthless common creature, picked up at random in the 
streets? JI am astonished and displeased,’ and with this 
she made as though to drag the lady from his side. Think- 
ing that this was some nightmare or hallucination, he roused 
himself and sat up. The lamp had gone out. Somewhat 
agitated he drew his sword and laid it beside him, calling 
as he did so for Ukon. She came at once, looking a good 
deal scared herself. ‘ Please wake the watchman in the 
cross-wing,’ he said, ‘ and tell him to bring a candle.’ ‘All 
in the dark like this? HowcanI?’ she answered. ‘Don’t 
be childish,’ said Genji laughing and clapped his hands. 
The sound echoed desolately through the empty house. 
He could not make anyone hear ; and meanwhile he noticed 
that his mistress was trembling from head to foot. What 
should he do? He was still undecided, when suddenly she 
burst out into a cold sweat. She seemed to be losing 
consciousness. ‘ Do not fear, Sir’ said Ukon ‘ all her life 
she has been subject to these nightmare fits.’ He 
remembered now how tired she had seemed in the morning 
and how she had lain with her eyes turned upwards as though 
in pain. ‘I will go myself and wake someone’ he said ; 
“IT am tired of clapping with only echoes to answer me. 
t To summon a servant. 


8 


114 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Do not leave her!’ and drawing Ukon towards the bed 
he went in the direction of the main western door. But 
when he opened it, he found that the lamp in the cross- 
wing had also gone out. A wind had risen. The few 
attendants he had brought with him were already in bed. 
There was indeed only the steward’s son (the young man who 
had once been Genji’s body-servant), and the one young 
courtier who had attended him on all his visits. They 
answered when he called and sprang to their feet. ‘Come 
with a candle,’ he said to the steward’s son, and tell my 
man to get his bow and keep on twanging the string as 
loud ashe can. I wonder anyone should sleep so soundly in 
such a deserted place. What has happened to Koremitsu ?’ 
‘He waited for some time, but as you seemed to have no 
need of him, he went home, saying he would be back at 
day-break.’ 

Genji’s man had been an Imperial Bowman, and making 
a tremendous din with his bow he strode towards the 
steward’s lodge crying ‘ Fire, Fire’ at the top of his voice. 
The twanging of the bow reminded Genji of the Palace. 
The roll-call of night courtiers must be over ; the Bowman’s 
roll-call must be actually going on. It was not so very late. 

He groped his way back into the room. She was lying 
just as he had left her, with Ukon face downwards beside 
her. ‘ What are you doing there’ he cried? ‘ Have you 
gone mad with fright ? You have heard no doubt that in 
such lonely places as this, fox-spirits sometimes try to cast 
a spell upon men. But, dear people, you need not fear. 
I have come back, and will not let such creatures harm 
you.’ And so saying he dragged Ukon from the bed. ‘ Oh, 
Sir’ she said ‘I felt so queer and frightened that I fell 
flat down upon my face; and what my poor lady must be 
going through I dare not think.’ ‘Then try not to add 
to her fright ’ said Genji, and pushing her aside bent over 


YUGAO 115 


the prostate form. The girl was scarcely breathing. He 
touched her; she was quite limp. She did not know him. 

Perhaps some accursed thing, some demon had tried to 
snatch her spirit away; she was so timid, so childishly 
helpless. The man came with the candle. Ukon was still 
too frightened to move. Genji placed a screen so as to hide 
the bed and called the man tohim. It was of course contrary 
to etiquette that he should serve Genji himself and he 
hesitated in embarrassment, not venturing even to ascend 
the dais. ‘Come here’ said Genji impatiently; ‘ use 
your common-sense.’ Keluctantly the man gave him the 
_ light, and as he held it towards the bed, he saw for a moment 
the figure which had stood there in his dream still hovering 
beside the pillow; suddenly it vanished. He had read in 
old tales of suth apparitions and of their power, and was in 
great alarm. But for the moment he was so full of concern 
for the lady who now lay motionless on the bed, that he gave 
no thought to that menacing vision, and lying down beside 
her, began gently to move her limbs. Already they were 
growing cold. Her breathing had quite stopped. What 
could he do? Towhom could he turn for help? He ought 
to send for a priest. He tried to control himself, but he was 
very young, and seeing her lying there all still and pale, he 
could contain himself no longer and crying ‘ Come back to 
me, my own darling, come back to life. Do not look at me 
so strangely!’ he flung his arms about her. But now she 
was quite cold. Her face was set in a dull, senseless stare. 

Suddenly Ukon, who had been so busy with her own fears, 
came to herself again, and set up the most dismal weeping. 
He disregarded her. Something had occurred to him. 
There was a story of how a certain minister was waylaid by 
a demon as he passed through the Southern Hall. The man, 
Genji remembered, had been prostrate with fear; but in 
the end he revived and escaped. No, she could not really 


116 THE TALE OF GENJI 


be dead, and turning to Ukon he said firmly: ‘ Come now, 
we cannot have you making such a hideous noise in the 
middle of the night.’ But he himself was stunned with 
erief, and though he gave Ukon distracted orders scarce 
knew what he was doing. Presently he sent for the steward’s 
son and said to him: ‘Someone here has had a fright and 
is in a very bad way. I want you to go to Koremitsu’s 
house and tell him to come as quickly as he can. If his 
brother the priest is there too, take him aside and tell him 
quietly that I should like to see him at once. But do not 
speak loud enough for the nun their mother to hear; for 
I would not have her know of this excursion.’ But though 
he managed to say the words, his brain was all the while 
in a hideous turmoil. For added to the ghastly thought that 
he himself had caused her death there was the dread and 
horror with which the whole place now inspired him. 

It was past midnight. A violent storm began to rise, 
sighing dismally as it swept the pine-trees that clustered 
round the house. And all the while some strange bird—an 
owl, he supposed—kept screeching hoarsely. Utter desola- 
tion on all sides. No human voice; no friendly sound. 
Why, why had he chosen this hideous place ? 

Ukon had fainted and was lying by her mistress’s side. 
Was she too going to die of fright ? No, no. He must not 
give way to such thoughts. He was now the only person 
left who was capable of action. Was there nothing he could 
do? Thecandle was burning badly. Helititagain. Over 
by the screen in the corner of the main room something was 
moving. There it was again, but in another corner now. 
There was a sound of footsteps treading cautiously. It still 
went on. Now they were coming up behind him... . 

If only Koremitsu would return! But Koremitsu was 
a rover and a long time was wasted in looking for him. 
Would it never be day? It seemed to him that this night 


YUGAO 117 


was lasting a thousand years. But now, somewhere a long 
way off, a cock crowed. 

Why had fate seen fit to treat him thus? He felt that it 
must be as a punishment for all the strange and forbidden 
amours into which in these last years he had despite himself 
been drawn, that now this unheard of horror had befallen 
him. And such things, though one may keep them secret 
for a time, always come out in the end. He minded most 
that the Emperor would be certain to discover sooner or 
later about this and all his other affairs. Then there was 
the general scandal. Everyone would know. The very 
gutter boys would make merry over him. Never, never 
must he do such things again, or his reputation would 
utterly collapse. ... 

At last Koremitsu arrived. He prided himself on being 
always ready to carry out his master’s wishes immediately 
at whatever hour of the night or day, and he thought it very 
provoking of Genji to have sent for him just on the one 
occasion when he was not to hand. And now that he had 
come his master did not seem able to give him any orders, 
but stood speechless in front of him. 

Ukon, hearing Koremitsu’s voice, suddenly came to 
herself and remembering what had happened, burst into 
tears. And now Genji, who while he alone was there had 
supported and encouraged the weeping maid-servant, 
relieved at last by Koremitsu could contain himself no 
longer, and suddenly realizing again the terrible thing that 
had befallen him he burst into uncontrollable weeping. 
“Something horrible has happened here,’ he managed to 
say at last, ‘too dreadful to explain. I have heard that 
when such things as this suddenly befall, certain scriptures 
should be read. I would have this done, and prayers said. 
That is why I asked you to bring your brother. . . .’ 

‘ He went up to the mountain yesterday ’ said Koremitsu. 


118 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘But I see that there has been terrible work here afoot. 
Was it in some sudden fit of madness that you did this 
thing ?’ Genji shook his head. So moved was Koremitsu 
at the sight of his master weeping, that he too began to 
sob. Had he been an older man, versed in the ways of the 
world, he might have been of some use in such a crisis, but 
both of them were young and both were equally perplexed. 
At last Koremitsu said: ‘ One thing at least is clear. The 
steward’s son must not know. For though he himself can 
be depended upon, he is the sort of person who is sure to 
tell all his relatives, and they might meddle disastrously 
in the affair. We had best get clear of this house as quietly 
as we can.’ ‘ Perhaps’ said Genji; ‘ but it would be hard 
to find a less frequented place than this.’ ‘ At any rate’ 
Koremitsu continued, ‘ we cannot take her to her own house ; 
for there her gentlewomen, who loved her dearly, would 
raise such a weeping and wailing as would soon bring a pack 
of neighbours swarming around, and all would quickly be 
known. If only I knew of some mountain-temple—for 
there such things are customary ! and pass almost unnoticed.’ 
He paused and reflected. ‘There is a lady I once knew who 
has become a nun and now lives on the Higashi Yama. 
She was my father’s wet-nurse and is now very old and 
bent. She does not of course live alone; but no outside 
people come there.’ A faint light was already showing in 
the sky when Koremitsu brought the carriage in. Thinking 
that Genji would not wish to move the body himself, he 
wrapt it in a rush-mat and carried it towards the carriage. 
How small she was to hold! Her face was calm and 
beautiful. He felt no repulsion. He could find no way 
to secure her hair, and when he began to carry her it over- 
flowed and hung towards the ground. Genji saw, and 
his eyes darkened. A hideous anguish possessed him. 


t The bringing of acorpse. Temples were used as mortuaries. 


YUGAO 119 


He tried to follow the body, but Koremitsu dissuaded 
him, saying ‘ You must ride back to your palace as quickly 
as you can; you have just time to get there before the stir 
begins,’ and putting Ukon into the carriage, he gave Genji 
his horse. Then pulling up his silk trousers to the knee, 
he accompanied the carriage on foot. It was a very singular 
procession; but Koremitsu, seeing his master’s terrible 
distress, forgot for the moment his own dignity and walked 
stolidly on. Genji, hardly conscious of what went on around 
him arrived at last in ghostly pallor at his house. ‘ Where 
do you come from, my Lord?’ ‘ How ill you look.’ ... 
Questions assailed him, but he hurried to his room and lay 
behind his curtain. He tried to calm himself, but hideous 
thoughts tormented him. Why had he not insisted upon 
going with her? What if after all she were not dead and 
waking up should find that he had thus abandoned her ? 
While these wild thoughts chased through his brain a 
terrible sensation of choking began to torment him. His 
head ached, his body seemed to be on fire. Indeed he felt 
so strange that he thought he too was about to die suddenly 
and inexplicably as she had done. The sun was now high, 
but he did not get up. His gentlemen, with murmurs of 
astonishment, tried every means to rouse him. He sent 
away the dainties they brought, and lay hour after hour 
plunged in the darkest thoughts. A messenger arrived 
from the Emperor: ‘ His Majesty has been uneasy since 
yesterday when his envoys sought everywhere for your 
Highness in vain.’ 

The young lords too came from the Great Hall. He would 
see none of them but T6 no Chij6, and even him he made 
stand outside his curtain while he spoke to him: ‘ My 
_ foster-mother has been very ill since the fifth month. She 
shaved her head and performed other penances, in conse- 
quence of which (or so it seems) she recovered a little and 


120 THE TALE OF GENJI 


got up, but is very much enfeebled. She sent word that 
she desired to see me once more before she died, and as I 
was very fond of her when I was a child, I could not refuse. 
While I was there a servant in the house fell ill and died 
quite suddenly. Out of consideration for me they removed 
the body at nightfall. But as soon as I was told of what 
had happened I remembered that the Fast of the Ninth 
Month was at hand and for this reason I have not thought 
it right to present myself to the Emperor my father. 
Moreover, since early morning I have had a cough and very 
bad headache, so you will forgive me for treating you in 
this way.” 

‘I will give the Emperor your message. But I must 
tell you that last night when you were out he sent messengers 
to look for you and seemed, if I may venture to say so, to 
be in a very ill humour.’ T6 no Chijo turned to go, but 
pausing a moment came back to Genji’s couch and said 
quietly : ‘ What really happened to you last night ? What 
you told me just now cannot possibly be true.’ ‘ You 
need not go into details,’ answered Genji impatiently. 
‘Simply tell him that unintentionally I became exposed to 
a pollution, and apologize to him for me as best you can.’ 
He spoke sharply, but in his heart there was only an 
unspeakable sadness ; and he was very tired. 

All day he lay hidden from sight. Once he sent for 
TO no Chijo’s brother Kurddo no Ben and gave him a 
formal message for the Emperor. The same excuse would 
serve for the Great Hall, and he sent a similar message 
there and to other houses where he might be expected. 

At dusk Koremitsu came. The story of Genji’s pollution 
had turned all visitors from the door, and Koremitsu found 
his palace utterly deserted. ‘What happened?’ said 
Genji, summoning him, ‘ you are sure that she is dead ?’ 
and holding his sleeve before his face he wept. ‘ Allis over ; 


YUGAO 121 


of that there is no doubt,’ said Koremitsu, also in tears; 
‘and since it is not possible for them to keep the body long, 
I have arranged with a very respectable aged priest who is 
my friend that the ceremony shall take place to-morrow, 
since to-morrow chances to be a good calendar day.’ ‘ And 
what of her gentlewoman?’ asked Genji. ‘I fear she will 
not live,’ said Koremitsu. ‘She cries out that she must 
follow her mistress and this morning, had I not held her, 
she would have cast herself from a high rock. She 
threatened to tell the servants at my lady’s house, but I 
prevailed upon her to think the matter over quietly before 
she did this.’ ‘Poor thing,’ said Genji, ‘small wonder 
that she should be thus distracted. I too am feeling strangely 
disordered and do not know what will become of me.’ 
‘Torment yourself no more,’ said Koremitsu. ‘ All things 
happen as they must. Here is one who will handle this 
matter very prudently for you, and none shall be the wiser.’ 
“Happen as they must. You are right’ said Genji ‘ and 
so I try to persuade myself. But in the pursuit of one’s 
own wanton pleasures to have done harm and to have caused 
someone’s death—that is a hideous crime; a terrible load 
of sin to bear with me through the world. Do not tell 
even your sister; much less your mother the nun, for I 
am ashamed that she should even know I have ever done 
that kind of thing.’! ‘Do not fear’ answered Koremitsu. 
‘Even to the priests, who must to a certain extent be let 
into the secret, I have told a long made-up tale’ and Genji 
felt a little easier in his mind. 

_ The waiting-women of his palace were sorely puzzled ; 
‘First he says he has been defiled and cannot go to Court, 
and now he sits whispering and sighing.’ What could it 
all mean? ‘Again I beg you’ said Genji at last ‘ to see 
that everything is done as it should be.’ He was thinking 


t T.e. pursued illicit amours. 


122 THE TALE OF GENJI 


all the time of the elaborate Court funerals which he had 
witnessed (he had, indeed, seen no others) and imagined 
Koremitsu directing a complicated succession of rituals. 
‘TI will do what I can; it will be no such great matter,’ 
he answered and turned to go. Suddenly Genji could bear 
no longer the thought that he should never see her again. 
‘You will think it very foolish of me,’ he said, ‘ but I am 
coming with you. I shall ride on horseback.’ ‘If your 
heart is set upon it,’ said Koremitsu, ‘it is not for me to 
reason with you. Let us start soon, so that we may be back 
before the night is over.’ So putting on the hunting-dress 
and other garments in which he had disguised himself 
before, he left his room. 

Already the most hideous anguish possessed him, and 
now, as he set out upon this strange journey, to the dark 
thoughts that filled his mind was added a dread lest his 
visit might rouse to some fresh fury the mysterious power 
which had destroyed her. Should he go? He hesitated ; 
but though he knew that this way lay no cure for his sadness, 
yet if he did not see her now, never again perhaps in any 
life to come would he meet the face and form that he had 
loved so well. So with Koremitsu and the one same groom 
to bear him company he set out upon the road. 

The way seemed endless. The moon of the seventeenth 
night had risen and lit up the whole space of the Kamo 
plain, and in the light of the outrunners’ torches the country- 
side towards Toribeno now came dimly into sight. But 
Genji in his sickness and despair saw none of this, and 
suddenly waking from the stupor into which he had fallen 
found that they had arrived. 

The nun’s cell was in a chapel built against the wall of a 
wooden house. It was a desolate spot, but the chapel 
itself was very beautiful. The light of the visitors’ torches 
flickered through the open door. In the inner room there 


YUGAO 123 


was no sound but that of a woman weeping by herself ; 
in the outer room were several priests talking together 
(or was it praying ?) in hushed voices. In the neighbouring 
temples vespers were over and there was absolute stillness ; 
only towards the Kiyomizu were lights visible and many 
figures seemed to throng the hill-side.* 

A senior priest, son of the aged nun, now began to recite 
the Scriptures in an impressive voice, and Genji as he 
listened felt the tears come into his eyes. He went in. 
Ukon was lying behind a screen; when she heard him 
enter, she turned the lamp to the wall. What terrible 
thing was she trying to hide from him? But when he came 
nearer he saw to his joy that the dead lady was not changed 
in any way whatsoever, but lay there very calm and 
beautiful ; and feeling no horror or fear at all he took her 
hand and said, ‘ Speak to me once again; tell me why for 
so short a while you came to me and filled my heart with 
gladness, and then so soon forsook me, who loved you so 
well?’ and he wept long and bitterly by her side. 

The priests did not know who he was, but they were 
touched by his evident misery and themselves shed tears. 
He asked Ukon to come back with him, but she answered : 
_ “Thave served this lady since she was a little child and never 
once for so much as an hour have I left her. How can I 
suddenly part from one who was so dear to me and serve 
in another’s house ? And I must now go and tell her people 
what has become of her; for (such is the manner of her 
death) if I do not speak soon, there will be an outcry that 
it was I who was to blame, and that would be a terrible 
thing for me, Sir,’ and she burst into tears, wailing ‘I 
will lie with her upon the pyre; my smoke shall mingle 
with hers ! ’ ai 

‘Poor soul’ said Genji, ‘ I do not wonder at your despair. 


t Pilgrimages to Kiyomizu Temple are made on the seventeenth day. 


124 THE TALE OF GENJI 


But this is the way of the world. Late or soon we must 
all go where she has gone. Take comfort and trust in me.’ 
So he sought to console her, but in a moment he added: 
‘ Those, I know, are but hollow words. I too care no longer 
for life and would gladly follow her.’ So he spoke, giving 
her in the end but little comfort. 

‘ The night is far spent’ said Koremitsu ; “we must now 
be on our way.’ And so with many backward looks and a 
heart full to bursting he left the house. A heavy dew had 
fallen and the mist was so thick that it was hard to see the 
road. On the way it occurred to him that she was still 
wearing his scarlet cloak, which he had lent her when they 
lay down together on the last evening. How closely their 
lives had been entwined ! 

Noting that he sat very unsteadily in his saddle, Koremitsu 
walked beside him and gave him a hand. But when they . 
came to a dyke, he lost hold and his master fell to the 
ground. Here he lay in great pain and bewilderment. 
“I shall not live to finish the journey’ he said; ‘ I have not 
strength to go so far.’ Koremitsu too was sorely troubled, 
for he felt that despite all Genji’s insistence, he ought never 
to have allowed him, fever-stricken as he was, to embark 
upon this disastrous journey. In great agitation he plunged 
his hands in the river and prayed to Our Lady Kwannon 
of Kiyomizu. Genji too roused himself at last and forced 
himself to pray inwardly to the Buddha. And so they 
managed to start upon their journey again and in the end 
with Koremitsu’s help he reached his palace. 

This sudden journey undertaken so late at night had 
seemed to all his household the height of imprudence. 
They had noted for some while past his nightly wanderings 
grow more and more frequent ; but though often agitated 
and pre-occupied, never had he returned so haggard as that 
morning. What could be the object of these continual 


YUGAO 125 


excursions? And they shook their heads in great concern. 
Genji flung himself upon his bed and lay there in fever 
and pain for several days. He was growing very weak. 
The news was brought to the Emperor who was greatly 
distressed and ordered continual prayers to be said for him 
in all the great temples; and indeed there were more 
special services and purification-ceremonies and incantations 
than I have room to rehearse. When it became known that 
this prince so famous for his great charm and beauty, was 
likely soon to die, there was a great stir in all the kingdom. 

Sick though he was he did not forget to send for Ukon and 
have her enrolled among his gentlewomen. Koremitsu, who 
was beside himself with anxiety concerning his master, 
yet managed on her arrival to calm himself and give to 
Ukon friendly instruction in her new duties; for he was 
touched by the helpless plight in which she had been left. 
And Genji, whenever he felt a little better, would use her to 
carry messages and letters, so that she soon grew used to 
waiting upon him, She was dressed in deep black and though 
not at all handsome was a pleasant enough looking woman. 

‘Tt seems that the same fate which so early stayed your 
lady’s course has willed that I too should be but little longer 
for this world. I know in what sore distress you are left by 
the loss of one who was for so many years your mistress and 
friend; and it was my purpose to have comforted you in 
your bereavement by every care and kindness I could devise. 
For this reason, indeed, it grieves me that I shall survive 
her for so short atime.’ So, somewhat stiltedly, he whispered 
to Ukon, and being now very weak he could not refrain 
from tears. Apart from the fact that his death would leave 
her utterly without resource, she had now quite taken to 
him and would have been very sorry indeed if he had died. 

His gentlemen ran hither and thither, distracted; the 
Emperor’s envoys thronged thick as the feet of the rain- 


126 THE TALE OF GENJI 


drops. Hearing of his father’s distress and anxiety, Genji 
strove hard to reassure him by pretending to some slight 
respite or improvement. His father-in-law too showed 
great concern, calling every day for news and ordering the 
performance of various rites and potent liturgies; and it 
was perhaps as a result of this, that having been dangerously 
ill for more than twenty days, he took a turn for the better, 
and soon all his symptoms began to disappear. On the 
night of his recovery the term of his defilement also ended 
and hearing that the Emperor was still extremely uneasy 
about him, he determined to reassure the Court by returning 
to his official residence at the Palace. His father-in-law 
came to fetch him in his own carriage and rather irritatingly 
urged upon him all sorts of remedies and precautions. 

For some while everything in the world to which he had 
now returned seemed strange to him and he indeed scarce 
knew himself ; but by the twentieth day of the ninth month 
his recovery was complete, nor did the pallor and thinness 
of his face become him by any means ill. 

At times he would stare vacantly before him and burst 
into loud weeping, and seeing this there were not wanting 
those who said that he was surely possessed. 

Often he would send for Ukon, and once when they had 
been talking in the still of the evening he said to her ‘ There 
is one thing which still puzzles me. Why would she never 
tell me who she was ? For even if she was indeed, as she once 
said, ‘a fisherman’s child,”’ it was a strange perversity to 
use such reticence with one who loved her so well.’ 

‘You ask why she hid her name from you ?’ said Ukon. 
‘Can you wonder at it ? When could she have been expected 
to tell you her name (not that it would have meant much 
to you if you had heard it) ? For from the beginning you 
treated her with a strange mistrust, coming with such 
secrecy and mystery as might well make her doubt whether 


YUGAO 127 


you were indeed a creature of the waking world. But 
though you never told her she knew well enough who you 
were, and the thought that you would not be thus secret 
had you regarded her as more than a mere plaything or idle 
distraction was very painful to her.’ 

“What a wretched series of misunderstandings’ said 
Genji. ‘For my part I had no mind to put a distance 
between us. But I had no experience in such affairs as this. 
There are many difficulties in the path of such people as I. 
First and foremost I feared the anger of my father the 
Emperor; and then, the foolish jesting of the world. I 
felt myself hedged in by courtly rules and restrictions. 
But for all the tiresome concealments that my rank forced 
upon me, from that first evening I had so strangely set my 
heart upon her that though reason counselled me I could 
not hold back; and indeed it seems sometimes to me that 
an irresistible fate drove me to do the thing of which I now 
so bitterly and continually repent. But tell me more 
about her. For there can now be no reason for concealment. 
When on each seventh day I cause the names of the Buddhas 
to be written for her comfort and salvation, whom am 
I to name in my inward prayer ?’ 

‘There can be no harm in my telling you that’ said 
_ Ukon, ‘ and I should have done so before, did I not somehow 
feel it a shame to be prating to you now about things she 
would not have me speak of while she was alive. Her 
parents died when she was quite small. Her father, Sammi 
Chiij6, loved her very dearly, but felt always that he could 
not give her all the advantages to which her great beauty 
entitled her ; and still perplexed about her future and how 
best to do his duty by her, he died. Soon afterwards some 
accident brought her into the company of T6 no Chijo! 
who was at that time still a lieutenant and for three years 


t Chij5 means ‘ Captain’; see above, p. 71. 


128 THE TALE OF GENJI 


he made her very happy. But in the autumn of last year 
disquieting letters began to arrive from the Great Hall of 
the Right,! and being by nature prone to fits of unreasoning 
fear she now fell into a wild panic and fled to the western 
part of the town where she hid herself in the house of her 
old wet-nurse. Here she was very uncomfortable, and had 
planned to move to a certain village in the hills, when she 
discovered that it would be unlucky, owing to the position 
of the stars since the beginning of the year, to make a 
journey in that direction; and (though she never told me 
so) I think, Sir, it troubled her sorely that you should have 
come upon her when she was living in so wretched a place. 
But there was never anyone in the world like my lady for 
keeping things to herself ; she could never bear that other 
people should know what was on her mind. I have no doubt, 
Sir, that she sometimes behaved very oddly to you and that 
you have seen all this for yourself.’ 

Yes, this was all just as T6 no Chtj6 had described. ‘I 
think there was some mention of a child that Chiijj6 was 
vexed to have lost sight of’ said Genji more interested than 
ever; ‘amIright?’ ‘ Yes, indeed,’ she answered ‘ it was 
born in the spring of last year, a girl, and a fine child it was.’ 
‘ Where is it now ?’ asked Genji. ‘ Could you get hold of it 
and bring it to me here without letting anyone know where 
you were taking it? It would be a great comfort to me in 
my present misery to have some remembrance of her near 
me ;’ and he added, ‘I ought of course to tell Chtj6, but 
that would lead to useless and painful discussions about 
what has happened. Somehow or other I will manage to 
bring her up herein my palace. I think there can be no harm 
in that. And you will easily enough find some story to tell 
to whatever people are now looking after her.’ ‘I am 


t From Té no Chijo’s wife, who was the daughter of the Minister of 
the Right. 


YUGAO 129 


very glad that this has entered your head,’ said Ukon, © 
‘it would be a poor look-out for her to grow up in the 
quarter where she is now living. With no one properly 
belonging to her and in such a part of the town... .’ 

In the stillness of the evening, under a sky of exquisite 
beauty, here and there along the borders in front of his 
palace some insect croaked its song; the leaves were just 
beginning to turn. And as he looked upon this pleasant 
picture he felt ashamed at the contrast between his surround- 
ings and the little house where Ytigao had lived. Suddenly 
somewhere among the bamboo groves the bird called 
iyebato uttered its sharp note. He remembered just how 
she had looked when in the gardens of that fatal house 
the same bird had startled her by its cry, and turning 
to Ukon, ‘ How old was she?’ he suddenly asked; ‘ for 
though she seemed childlike in her diffidence and helpless- 
ness, that may only have been a sign that she was not long 
for this world.’ ‘She must have been nineteen’ said 
Ukon. ‘When my mother, who was her first wet-nurse, 
died and left me an orphan, my lady’s father was pleased 
to notice me and reared me at my lady’s side. Ah Sir, 
when I think of it, I do not know how I shall live without 
her; for kind as people here-may be I do not seem to get 
used to them. I suppose it is that I knew her ways, poor 
lady, she having been my mistress for so many years.’ 

To Genji even the din of the cloth-beaters’ mallets had 
become dear through recollection, and as he lay in bed he 
repeated those verses of Po Chi-i. 


In the eighth month and ninth month when the nights are growing long 
A thousand times, ten thousand times the fuller’s stick beats. 


The young brother still waited upon him, but he no 
longer brought with him the letters which he had been 
used to bring. Utsusemi thought he had at last decided that 


her treatment of him was too unfriendly to be borne, and 
9 


130 THE TALE OF GENJI 


was vexed that he should feel so. Then suddenly she heard 
of his illness, and all her vexation turned to consternation 
and anxiety. She was soon to set out upon her long journey, 
but this did not much interest her; and to see whether 
Genji had quite forgotten her she sent him a message saying 
that she had been able to find no words in which to express 
her grief at hearing the news of his illness. With it she sent 
the poem: ‘ I did not ask for news and you did not ask why 
I was silent ; so the days wore on and I remained in sorrow 
and dismay.’ He had not forgotten her, no, not in all his 
trouble ; and his answer came: ‘ Of this life, fragile as the 
utsusemi’s! shell, already I was weary, when your word 
came, and gave me strength to live anew.’ The poem was 
written in a very tremulous and confused hand; but she 
thought the writing very beautiful and it delighted her 
that he had not forgotten how, cicada-like, she had shed 
her scarf. There could be on harm in this interchange 
of notes, but she had no intention of arranging a meeting. 
She thought that at last even he had seen that there could 
be no sense in that. 

As for Utsusemi’s companion, she was not yet married, 
and Genji heard that she had become the mistress of T6 
no Chijé’s brother Kurddo no Shoshd; and though he 
feared that Shdsho might already have taken very ill the 
discovery that he was not first in the field, and did not 
at all wish to offend him, yet he had a certain curiosity 
about the girl and sent Utsusemi’s little brother with a 
message asking if she had heard of his illness and the poem : 
‘Had I not once gathered for my pillow a handful of the 
sedge that grows upon the eaves,? not a dewdrop of pretext 
could my present message find.’ It was an acrostic with 
many hidden meanings. He tied the letter to a tall reed 


t Cicada, 
a ‘Sedge upon the eaves’ is Nokiba no Ogi, and it is by this name 
that the lady is generally known. 


YUGAO 181 


and bade him deliver it secretly; but was afterwards 
very uneasy at the thought that it might go astray. ‘ If 
it falls into Shdshd’s hands’ he thought ‘ he will at once 
guess that it was I who was before him.’ But after all 
Shésh6 would probably not take that so very hard, Genji 
had vanity enough to think. 

The boy delivered the message when Shésh6 was at a 
safe distance. She could not help feeling a little hurt; 
but it was something that he had remembered her at all, 
and justifying it to herself with the excuse that she had had 
no time to do anything better, she sent the boy straight 
_ back with the verse: ‘ The faint wind of your favour, that 
but for a moment blew, with grief has part befrosted the 
small sedge of the eaves.’ It was very ill-written, with all 
sorts of ornamental but misleading strokes and flourishes ; 
indeed with a complete lack of style. However, it served 
to remind him of the face he had first seen that evening 
by the lamplight. As for the other who on that occasion 
had sat so stiffly facing her, what determination there had 
been in her face, what a steady resolution to give no 
quarter ! 

The affair with the lady of the sedge was so unintentional 
and so insignificant that though he regarded it as rather 
frivolous and indiscreet, he saw no great harm init. But 
if he did not take himself in hand before it was too late he 
would soon again be involved in some entanglement which 
might finally ruin his reputation. 

On the forty-ninth day after Yiigao’s death a service in 
her memory was by his orders secretly held in the Hoked6 
on Mount Hiyei. The ritual performed was of the most 
elaborate kind, everything that was required being supplied 
_ from the Prince’s own store ; and even the decoration of the 
service books and images was carried out with the utmost 
attention. Koremitsu’s brother, a man of great piety, 


132 THE TALE OF GENJI 


was entrusted with the direction of the ceremony, and all 
went well. Next Genji sent for his old writing-master, a 
doctor of letters for whom he had a great liking and bade 
him write the prayer for the dead.t ‘Say that I commit 
to Amida the Buddha one not named whom [I loved, but 
lost disastrously,’ and he wrote out a rough draft for the 
learned man to amend. ‘ There is nothing to add or alter,’ 
said the master, deeply moved. Who could it be, he 
wondered, at whose death the prince was so distressed ? 
(For Genji, try as he might, could not hide his tears.) 

When he was secretly looking through his store for largesse 
to give to the Hokedo priests, he came upon a certain 
dress and as he folded it made the poem: ‘ The girdle that 
to-day with tears I knot, shall we ever in some new life 
untie ?’ 

Till now her spirit had wandered in the void.? 

But already she must be setting out on her new life- 
path, and in great solicitude, he prayed continually for her 
safety. 

He met To no Chijé6 and his heart beat violently, for he 
had longed to tell him about Yiigao’s child and how it was 
to be reared. But he feared that the rest of the story would 
needlessly anger and distress him, and he did not mention 
the matter. Meanwhile the servants of Yiigao’s house were 
surprised that they had had no news from her nor even 
from Ukon, and had begun to be seriously disquieted. They 
had still no proof that it was Genji who was her lover, but 
several of them thought that they had recognized him 
and his name was whispered among them. They would 
have it that Koremitsu knew the secret, but he pretended 
to know nothing whatever about Yiigao’s lover and found a 


i Gwammon. 

2 For forty-nine days the spirit of the dead leads the intermediate 
existence so strangely described in the Abhidharma Koga Sastra; then it 
begins its new incarnation. 


YUGAO 183 


way to put off all their questions; and as he was still 
frequenting the house for his own purposes, it was easy for 
them to believe that he was not really concerned in their 
mistress’s affairs. Perhaps after all it was some blackguard 
of a Zury6’s son who, frightened of T6 no Chiij6’s interference, 
had carried her off to his province. The real owner of the 
house was a daughter of Yiigao’s second wet-nurse, who had 
three children of her own. Ukon had been brought up with 
them, but they thought that it was perhaps because she was 
not their own sister that Ukon sent them no news of their 
mistress, and they were in great distress. 

Ukon who knew that they would assail her with questions 
which her promise to Genji forbade her to answer, dared not 
go to the house, not even to get news of her lady’s child. 
It had been put out somewhere to nurse, but to her great 
sorrow she had quite lost sight of it. 

Longing all the while to see her face once more though 
only in a dream, upon the night after the ceremony on Mount 
Hiyei, he had a vision very different from that for which he 
prayed. There appeared to him once more, just as on that 
fatal night, the figure of a woman in menacing posture, and 
he was dismayed at the thought that some demon which 
haunted the desolate spot might on the occasion when it 
_ did that terrible thing, also have entered into him and 
possessed him. | 

Iyo no Suke was to start early in the Godless Month 
and had announced that his wife would go with him. Genji 
sent very handsome parting presents and among them with 
special intent he put many very exquisite combs and fans. 
With them were silk strips to offer to the God of Journeys 
and, above all, the scarf which she had dropped, and, tied 
to it, a poem in which he said that he had kept it in remem- 
brance of her while there was still hope of their meeting, 
but now returned it wet with tears shed in vain. There was 


134 THE TALE OF GENJI 


a long letter with the poem, but this was of no particular 
interest and is here omitted. She sent no answer by the 
man who had brought the presents, but gave her brother 
the poem: ‘ That to the changed cicada you should return 
her summer dress shows that you too have changed and 
fills an insect heart with woe.’ 

He thought long about her. Though she had with so 
strange and inexplicable a resolution steeled her heart 
against him to the end, yet each time he remembered that 
she had gone forever it filled him with depression. 

It was the first day of the tenth month, and as though in 
sign that winter had indeed begun heavy rain fell. All day 
long Genji watched the stormy sky. Autumn had hideously 
bereaved him and winter already was taking from him one 
whom he dearly loved : 


Now like a traveller who has tried two ways in vain 


I stand perplexed where these sad seasons meet. a 

ae 
Now at least we must suppose he was convinced that such 
secret adventures led only to misery. 

I should indeed be very loth to recount in all their detail 
matters which he took so much trouble to conceal, did I 
not know that if you found I had omitted anything you 
would at once ask why, just because he was supposed to 
be an Emperor’s son, I must needs put a favourable showing 
on his conduct by leaving out all his indiscretions; and 
you would soon be saying that this was no history but a 
mere made-up tale designed to influence the judgment of 
posterity. As it is I shall be called a scandal-monger ; 
but that I cannot help. 





CHAPTER V 
MURASAKI 


E fell sick of an ague, and when numerous charms 

and spells had been tried in vain, the illness many 

times returning, someone said that in a certain 
temple on the Northern Hills there lived a wise and holy 
man who in the summer of the year before (the ague was 
then rife and the usual spells were giving no relief) was 
able to work many signal cures: ‘ Lose no time in con- 
> sulting him, for while you try one useless means after 
another the disease gains greater hold upon you.’ At once 
he sent a messenger to fetch the holy man, who however 
replied that the infirmities of old age no longer permitted 
him to go abroad. ‘ What is to be done?’ said Genji; 
“I must go secretly to visit him’; and taking only four or 
five trusted servants he set out long before dawn. The 
_ place lay somewhat deep into the hills. Jt was the last 
day of the third month and in the Capital the blossoms 
had all fallen. The hill-cherry was not yet out; but as he 
approached the open country, the mists began to assume 
strange and lovely forms, which pleased him the more 
because, being one whose movements were tethered by many 
proprieties, he had seldom seen such sights before. The 
temples too delighted him. The holy man lived in a deep 
cave hollowed out of a high wall of rock. Genji did not 
send in his name and was in close disguise, but his face 


was well known and the priest at once recognized him. 
135 





136 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘Forgive me’ he said; ‘it was you, was it not, who sent 
for me the other day? Alas, I think no longer of the 
things of this world and I am afraid I have forgotten how 
to work my cures. J am very sorry indeed that you have 
come so far,’ and pretending to be very much upset, he 
looked at Genji, laughing. But it was soon apparent that 
he was a man of very great piety and learning. He wrote 
out certain talismans and administered them, and read 
certain spells. By the time this was over, the sun had 
risen, and Genji went a little way outside the cave and 
looked around him. From the high ground where he was 
standing he looked down on a number of scattered 
hermitages. A winding track led down to a hut which, 
though it was hedged with the same small brushwood as 
the rest, was more spaciously planned, having a pleasant 
roofed alley running out from it, and there were trim copses 
set around. He asked whose house it was and was told 
by one of his men that a certain abbot had been living 
there in retirement for two years. ‘I know him well’ 
said Genji on hearing the abbot’s name; ‘I should not 
like to meet him dressed and attended as I am. I hope 
he will not hear...’ Just then a party of nicely dressed 
children came out of the house and began to pluck such 
flowers as are used for the decoration of altars and holy 
images. ‘There are some girls with them’ said one of 
Genji’s men. ‘We cannot suppose that His Reverence 
keeps them. Who then can they be?’ and to satisfy his 
curiosity he went a little way down the hill and watched 
them. ‘ Yes, there are some very pretty girls, some of 
them grown up and others quite chil e came back 
and reported. 

During a great part of the morning * was busy with 
his cure. When at last the ceremony was completed his 
attendants, dreading the hour at which the fever usually 


® 







MURASAKI 187 


returned, strove to distract his attention by taking him 
a little way across the mountain to a point from which 
the Capital could be seen. ‘How lovely’ cried Genji 
‘are those distances half lost in haze, and that blurr of 
shimmering woods that stretches out on every side. How 
could anyone be unhappy for a single instant who lived 
in such a place?’ ‘ This is nothing,’ said one of his men. 
‘If I could but show you the lakes and mountains of other 
provinces, you would soon see how far they excel all that 
you here admire’; and he began to tell him first of Mount 
Fuji and many another famous peak, and then of the West 
Country with all its pleasant bays and shores, till he quite 
forgot that it was the hour of his fever. ‘ Yonder, nearest 
to us ’ the man continued, pointing to the sea ‘ is the bay of 
Akashi in Harima. Note it well; for though it is not 
a very out-of-the-way place, yet the feeling one has there 
of being shut off from everything save one huge waste of 
sea makes it the strangest and most desolate spot I know. 
And there it is that the daughter of a lay priest who was 
once governor of the province presides over a mansion of 
quite disproportionate and unexpected magnificence. He 
is the descendant of a Prime Minister and was expected 
to cut a great figure in the world. But he is a man of very 
singular disposition and is averse to all society. For a 
time he was an officer in the Palace Guard, but he gave 
this up and accepted the province of Harima. However 
he soon quarrelled with the local people and, announcing 
that he had been badly treated and was going back to the 
Capital, he did nothing of the sort, but shaved his head 
and became riest. Then instead of settling, as is 
usually don we secluded hillside, he built himself 
a house on t re, which may seem to you a very 
strange thing to do; but as a matter of fact, whereas in 
that province in one place or another a good many recluses 


% 










 & 


188 THE TALE OF GENJI 


have taken up their abode, the mountain-country is far 
more dull and lonely and would sorely have tried the 
patience of his young wife and child ; and so as a compromise 
he chose the seashore. Once when I was travelling in 
the province of Harima I took occasion to visit his house 
and noted that, though at the Capital he had lived in a 
very modest style, here he had built on the most magnificent 
and lavish scale; as though determined in spite of what 
had happened (now that he was free from the bother of 
governing the province) to spend the rest of his days in 
the greatest comfort imaginable. But all the while he was 
making great preparations for the life to come and no 
ordained priest could have led a more austere and pious 
life.’ 

‘But you spoke of his daughter?’ said Genji. ‘She 
is passably good-looking,’ he answered, ‘and not by any 
means stupid. Several governors and officers of the province 
have set their hearts upon her and pressed their suit most 
urgently ; but her father has sent them all away. It seems 
that though in his own person so indifferent to worldly 
glory, he is determined that this one child, his only object 
of care, should make amends for his obscurity, and has 
sworn that if ever she chooses against his will, and when 
he is gone flouts his set purpose and injunction to satisfy 
some idle fancy of her own, his ghost will rise and call 
upon the sea to cover her.’ 

Genji listened with great attention. ‘ Why, she is like 
the vestal virgin who may know no husband but the King- 
Dragon of the Sea,’ and they laughed at the old ex-Governor’s 
absurd ambitions. The teller of the story was a son of 
the present Governor of Harima, who from being a clerk 
in the Treasury had last year been capped an officer of the 
Fifth Rank. He was famous for his love-adventures and 
the others whispered to one another that it was with every 


MURASAKI 139 


intention of persuading the lady to disobey her father’s 
injunctions that he had gone out of his way to visit the 
shore of Akashi. 

‘I fear her breeding must be somewhat countrified,’ 
said one; ‘it cannot well be otherwise, seeing that she 
has grown up with no other company than that of her old- 
fashioned parents,—though indeed it appears that her 
mother was a person of some consequence.’ ‘ Why, yes’ 
said Yoshikiyo, the Governor’s son, ‘and for this reason 
she was able to secure little girls and boys from all the 
best houses in the Capital, persuading them to pay visits 
to the sea-side and be playmates to her own little girl, who 
thus acquired the most polished breeding.’ ‘If an un- 
scrupulous person were to find himself in that quarter,’ 
said another, ‘I fear that despite the dead father’s curse 
he might not find it easy to resist her.’ 

The story made a deep impression upon Genji’s imagina- 
tion. As his gentlemen well knew, whatever was fantastic 
or grotesque both in people and situations at once strongly 
attracted him. They were therefore not surprised to see him 
listen with so much attention. ‘It is now well past noon,’ 
said one of them, ‘and I think we may reckon that you 
will get safely through the day without a return of your 
complaint. So let us soon be starting for home.’ But the 
priest persuaded him to stay a little longer: ‘ The sinister 
influences are not yet wholly banished,’ he said; ‘it would 
be well that a further ritual should continue quietly during 
the night. By to-morrow morning, I think you will be 
able to proceed.’ His gentlemen all urged him to stay ; 
nor was he at all unwilling, for the novelty of such a lodging 
amused him. ‘ Very well then, at dawn’ he said, and 
having nothing to do till bed-time which was still a long 
‘way off, he went out on to the hill-side, and under cover 
of the heavy evening mist loitered near the brushwood 


140 THE TALE OF GENJI 


hedge. His attendants had gone back to the hermit’s 
cave and only Koremitsu was with him. In the western 
wing, opposite which he was standing, was a nun at her 
devotions. The blind was partly raised. He thought she 
seemed to be dedicating flowers to an image. Sitting near 
the middle pillar, a sutra-book propped upon a stool by 
her side, was another nun. She was reading aloud ; there 
was a look of great unhappiness in her face. She seemed 
to be about forty; not a woman of the common people. 
Her skin was white and very fine, and though she was much 
emaciated, there was a certain roundness and fulness in 
her cheeks, and her hair, clipped short on a level with her 
eyes, hung in so delicate a fringe across her brow that she 
looked, thought Genji, more elegant and even fashionable 
in this convent guise, than if her hair had been long. Two 
very well-conditioned maids waited upon her. Several 
little girls came running in and out of the room at play. 
Among them was one who seemed to be about ten years 
old. She came running into the room dressed in a rather 
worn white frock lined with stuff of a deep saffron colour. 
Never had he seen a child like this.. What an astonishing 
creature she would grow into! Her hair, thick and wavy, 
stood out fan-wise about her head. She was very flushed 
and her lips were trembling. ‘What is it? Have you 
quarrelled with one of the other little girls?’ The nun 
raised her head as she spoke and Genji fancied that there 
was some resemblance between her and the child. No 
doubt she was its mother. ‘ Inu has let out my sparrow— 
the little one that I kept in the clothes-basket,’ she said, 
looking very unhappy. ‘ What a tiresome boy that Inu 
is!’ said one of the two maids. ‘He deserves a good 
scolding for playing such a stupid trick. Where can it 
have got to? And this after we had taken so much trouble 
to tame it nicely! I only hope the crows have not found 


MURASAKI 141 


it,’ and so saying she left the room. She was a pleasant- 
looking woman, with very long, wavy hair. The others 
called her Nurse Shonagon, and she seemed to be in charge 
of the child. ‘Come,’ said the nun to the little girl, ‘ you 
must not be such a baby. You are thinking all the time © 
of things that do not matter at all. Just fancy! Even 
now when I am so ill that any day I may be taken from 
you, you do not trouble your head about me, but are grieving 
about a sparrow. It is very unkind, particularly as I have 
told you I don’t know how many times that it is naughty 
to shut up live things in cages. Come over here!’ and the 
child sat down beside her. ( Her features were very exquisite ; 
but it was above all the way her hair grew, in cloudy masses 
over her temples, but thrust back in childish fashion from 
her forehead, that struck him as marvellously beautiful. 
As he watched her and wondered what she would be like 
when she grew up it suddenly occurred to him that she 
bore no small resemblance to one whom he had loved 
with all his being,t and at the resemblance he secretly 
wept. | 

The nun, stroking the child’s hair, now said to her: ‘It’s 
a lovely mop, though you ave so naughty about having 
it combed. But it worries me very much that you are 
still so babyish. Some children of your age are very 
different. Your dear mother was only twelve when her 
father died; yet she showed herself quite capable of 
managing her own affairs. But if I were taken from you 
now, I do not know what would become of you, I do not 
indeed,’ and she began to weep. Even Genji, peeping at the 
scene from a distance, found himself becoming quite dis- 
tressed. The girl, who had been watching the nun’s face 
with a strange unchildish intensity, now dropped her head 
disconsolately, and as she did so her hair fell forward across 


t Fujitsubo, who was indeed the child’s aunt. 


apn te iy 


142 THE TALE OF GENJI 


her cheeks in two great waves of black. Looking at her 
fondly the nun recited the poem: ‘ Not knowing if any 
will come to nurture the tender leaf whereon it lies, how 
loath is the dewdrop to vanish in the sunny air.’ To which 
the waiting-woman replied with a sigh: ‘O dewdrop, 
surely you will linger till the hides budding leaf has shown 
in what fair form it means to grow.’ 

At this moment the priest to whom the house belonged 
entered the room from the other side: ‘ Pray, ladies,’ he 
said, ‘are you not unduly exposing yourselves? You have 
chosen a bad day to take up your stand so close to the 
window. I have just heard that Prince Genji has come 
to the hermit yonder to be cured of an ague. But he has 
disguised himself in so mean a habit that I did not know 
him, and have been so near all day without going to pay 
my respects to him.’ The nun started back in horror ; 
‘How distressing! He may even have passed and seen 
us...’ and she hastened to let down the folding blind. 
‘T am really very glad that I am to have an opportunity 
of visiting this Prince Genji of whom one hears so much. 
He is said to be so handsome that even austere old priests 
like myself forget in his presence the sins and sorrows of the 
life they have discarded and take heart to live a little longer 
in a world where so much beauty dwells. But you shall 
hear all about it: ...’ 

Before the old priest had time to leave the house Genji 
was on his way back to the hermit’s cave. What an en- 
chanting creature he had discovered! How right too his 
friends had been on that rainy night when they told him 
that on strange excursions such as this beauty might well 
be found lurking in unexpected quarters! How delightful 
to have strolled out by chance and at once made so astonish- 
ing a find! Whose could this exquisite child be? He 
would dearly love to have her always near him, to be able 


MURASAKI 143 


to turn to her at any moment for comfort and distraction, 
as once he had turned to the lady in the Palace. 

He was already lying down in the hermit’s cave when 
(everything being at very close quarters) he heard the 
voice of the old priest’s disciple calling for Koremitsu. 
“My master has just learnt’ said this disciple, ‘ that you 
were lodged so near at hand; and though it grieves him 
that you did not in passing honour him with a visit, he 
would at once have paid his respects to the Prince, had he 
not thought that Lord Genji could not be unaware of his 
presence in the neighbourhood of this hermitage, and might 
perhaps have refrained from visiting him only because he 
did not wish to disclose the motive of his present pilgrimage. 
But my master would remind you’ continued the man, 
“that we too in our poor hut could provide you with straw 
beds to lie on, and should be sorry if you left without 
honouring us... . ’ 

“For ten days,’ answered Genji from within, “I have 
been suffering from an ague which returned so constantly 
that I was in despair, when someone advised me to consult 
the hermit of this mountain, whom I accordingly visited. 
But thinking that it would be very disagreeable for a sage 
of his repute if in such a case as mine it became known that 
his treatment had been unsuccessful, I was at greater pains 
to conceal myself than I should have been if visiting an 
ordinary wonder-worker. Pray ask your master to accept 
this excuse and bid him enter the cave.’ Thus encouraged, 
the priest presented himself. Genji was rather afraid of 
him, for though an ecclesiastic he was a man of superior 
genius, very much respected in the secular world, and Genji 
felt that it was not at all proper to receive him in the shabby 
old clothes which he had used for his disguise. After giving 
some details of his life since he had left the Capital and 
come to live in retirement on this mountain, the priest 


144 THE TALE OF GENJI 


begged Genji to come back with him and visit the cold 
spring which flowed in the garden of his hut. Here was 
an opportunity to see again the people who had so much 
interested him. But the thought of all the stories that the 
old priest might have told them about him made him feel 
rather uncomfortable. What matter? At all costs he 
must see that lovely child again and he followed the old 
priest back to his hut. In the garden the natural vegetation 
of the hill-side had been turned to skilful use. There was 
no moon, and torches had been lit along the sides of the 
moat, while fairy lanterns hung on the trees. The front 
parlour was very nicely arranged. A heavy perfume of 
costly and exotic scents stole from hidden incense-burners 
and filled the room with a delicious fragrance. These 
perfumes were quite unfamiliar to Genji and he supposed 
that they must have been prepared by the ladies of the 
inner room, who would seem to have spent considerable 
ingenuity in the task. 

The priest began:to tell stories about the uncertainty of 
this life and the retributions of the life to come. Genji 

was appalled to think how heavy his own sins had already 
- been. It was bad enough to think that he would have 
them on his conscience for the rest of his present life. But 
then there was also the life to come. What terrible punish- 
ments he had to look forward to! And all the while the 
priest was speaking Genji thought of his own wickedness. 
What a good idea it would be to turn hermit and live in 
some such place. . . . But immediately his thoughts strayed 
to the lovely face which he had seen that afternoon and 
longing to know more of her ‘ Who lives with you here ? ’ 
he asked. ‘It interests me to know, because I once saw 
this place in a dream and was astonished to recognize it 
when I came here to-day.’ At this the priest laughed : 
‘ Your dream seems to have come rather suddenly into the 


MURASAKI 145 


conversation,’ he said, ‘ but I fear that if you pursue your 
enquiry, your expectations will be sadly disappointed. 
You have probably never heard of Azechi no Dainagon, he 
died so long ago. He married my sister, who after his 
death turned her back upon the world. Just at that time 
I myself was in certain difficulties and was unable to visit 
the Capital; so for company she came to join me here in 
my retreat.’ 

‘I have heard that Aseji no Dainagon had a daughter. 
Is that so ?’ said Genji at a venture; ‘I am sure you will 
not think I ask the question with any indiscreet intention. 
... ‘He had an only daughter who died about ten 
years ago. Her father had always wanted to present her 
at Court. But she would not listen, and when he was dead 
and there was only my sister the nun to look after her, 
she allowed some wretched go-between to introduce her 
to Prince Hyébuky6 whose mistress she became. His 
wife, a proud, relentless woman, from the first pursued her 
with constant vexations and affronts; day in and day out 
this obstinate persecution continued, till at last she died 
of heartbreak. They say that unkindness cannot kill; 
but I shall never say so, for from this cause alone I saw my 
kinswoman fall sick and perish.’ 

/ ‘Then the little girl must be this lady’s child,’ Genji 
realized at last. And that accounted for her resemblance 
to the lady in the Palace.t He felt more drawn towards 
her than ever. She was of good lineage, which is never 
amiss ; and her rather rustic simplicity would be an actual 
advantage when she became his pupil, as he was now 
determined she should; for it would make it the easier 
for him to mould her unformed tastes to the pattern of 
his-own. \‘ And did the lady whose sad story you have 
told me leave no remembrance behind her ?’ asked Genji, 


t Fujitsubo, who was Hyobuky6o’s sister. 


10 


146 THE TALE OF GENJI 


still hoping to turn the conversation on to the child herself. 
‘She died only a short while after her child was born, and 
it too was a girl. The charge of it fell to my sister who is 
in failing health and feels herself by no means equal to such 
a responsibility.” All was now clear. ‘ You will think 
it a very strange proposal,’ said Genji, ‘ but I feel that I 
should like to adopt this child. Perhaps you would mention 
this to your sister? | Though others early involved me in 
marriage, their choice proved distasteful to me and having, 
as it seems, very little relish for society, I now live entirely 
alone. She is, I quite realize, a mere child, and I am not 
proposing ...” Here he paused and the priest answered : 
‘I am very much obliged to you for this offer; but I am 
afraid it is clear that you do not at all realize that the child 
in question is a mere infant. You would not even find her 
amusing as a casual distraction. But it is true that a girl 
as she grows up needs the backing of powerful friends if 
she is to make her way in the world, and though I cannot 
promise you that anything will come of it, I ought certainly 
to mention the matter to her grandmother.’ His manner 
had suddenly become somewhat cool and severe. Genji 
felt that he had been indiscreet and preserved an embarrassed 
silence. ‘ There is something which I ought to be doing in 
the Hall of Our Lord Amida,’ the priest presently continued, 
‘so I must take leave of you for a while. I must also read 
my vespers; but I will rejoin you afterwards,’ and he set 
out to climb the hill. Genji felt very disconsolate. It had 
begun to rain; a cold wind blew ‘across the hill, carrying 
with it the sound of a waterfall,—audible till then as a 
gentle intermittent plashing, but now a mighty roar; and 
with it, somnolently rising and falling, mingled the mono- 
tonous chanting of the scriptures. Even the most unim- 
pressionable nature would have been plunged into melancholy 
by such surroundings. How much the more so Prince 


MURASAKI 147 


Genji, as he lay sleepless on his bed, continually planning 
and counter-planning! The priest had spoken of ‘ vespers,’ 
but the hour was indeed very late. It was clear however 
that the nun was still awake, for though she was making 
as little noise as possible, every now and then her rosary 
would knock with a faint click against the praying-stool. 
There was something alluring in the sound of this low, 
delicate tapping. It seemed to come from quite close. 
He opened a small space between the screens which divided 
the living-room from the inner chamber and rustled his 
fan. He had the impression that someone in the inner 
room after a little hesitation had come towards the screen 
as though saying to herself ‘It cannot be so, yet I could 
have sworn I heard... ,’ and then retreated a little, as 
though thinking ‘ Well, it was only my fancy after all!’ 
Now she seemed to be feeling her way in the dark, and Genji 
said aloud ‘ Follow the Lord Buddha and though your 
way lie in darkness yet shall you not go astray.’ Suddenly 
hearing his clear young voice in the darkness, the woman 
had not at first the courage to reply. But at last she 
managed to answer: ‘In which direction, please, is He 
leading me? I am afraid I do not quite understand.’ 
“T am sorry to have startled you,’ said Genji. ‘I have only 
this small request to make: that you will carry to your 
mistress the following poem: ‘ Since first he saw the green 
leaf of the tender bush, never for a moment has the dew 
of longing dried from the traveller’s sleeve.’ ‘Surely you 
must know that there is no one here who understands 
messages of that kind,’ said the woman; ‘I wonder whom 
you mean?’ ‘I have a particular reason for wishing your 
mistress to receive the message,’ said Genji, ‘ and I should 
be obliged if you would contrive to deliver it.’ The nun 
at once perceived that the poem referred to her grandchild 
and supposed that Genji, having been wrongly informed 


148 THE TALE OF GENJI 


about her age, was intending to make love to her. But 
how had he discovered her grand-daughter’s existence ? 
For some while she pondered in great annoyance and 
perplexity, and at last answered prudently with a poem 
in which she said that ‘he who was but spending a night 
upon a traveller's dewy bed could know little of those 
whose home was forever upon the cold moss of the hill-side.’ 
Thus she turned his poem to a harmless meaning. ‘ Tell 
her,’ said Genji when the message was brought back, ‘ that 
I am not accustomed to carry on conversations in this 
indirect manner. However shy she may be, I must ask 
her on this occasion to dispense with formalities and discuss 
this matter with me seriously!’ ‘ How can he have been 
thus misinformed ?’ said the nun, still thinking that Genji 
imagined her grand-daughter to be a grown-up woman. 
She was terrified at being suddenly commanded to appear 
before this illustrious personage and was wondering what 
excuse she would make. Her maids, however, were con- 
vinced that Genji would be grievously offended if she did. 
not appear, and at last, coming out from the women’s 
chamber, she said to him: ‘ Though I am no longer a young 
woman, I very much doubt whether I ought to come like 
this. But since you sent word that you have serious 
business to discuss with me, I could not refuse. ... ’ 
‘Perhaps’ said Genji, ‘ you will think my proposal both 
ill-timed and frivolous. I can only assure you that I mean ~ 
it very seriously. Let Buddha judge...’ But here he ~ 
broke off, intimidated by her age and gravity. ‘ You have 
certainly chosen a very strange manner of communicating 
this proposal to me. But though you have not yet said 
what it is, I am sure you are quite in earnest about it.’ 
Thus encouraged, Genji continued: ‘I was deeply touched 
by the story of your long widowhood and of your daughter’s 
death. / I too, like this poor child, was deprived in earliest 


MURASAKI 149 


infancy of the one being who tenderly loved me, and in 
my childhood suffered long years of loneliness and misery. ) 
( Thus we are both in like case, and this has given me so 
deep a sympathy for the child that I long to make amends 
for what she has lost. It was, then, to ask if you would 
consent to let me play a mother’s part that at this strange 
and inconvenient hour I trespassed so inconsiderately upon 
your patience.’? ‘I am sure that you are meaning to be 
very kind,’ said the nun, ‘ but—forgive me—you have 
evidently been misinformed. There is indeed a girl living 
here under my charge; but she is a mere infant and could 
not be of the slightest interest to you in any way, so that 
I cannot consent to your proposal.’ ‘On the contrary,’ 
said Genji, ‘I am perfectly conversant with every detail 
concerning this child; but if you think my sympathy for 
her exaggerated or misplaced, pray pardon me for having 
mentioned it.’ It was evident that he did not in the least 
realize the absurdity of what he had proposed, and she 
saw no use in explaining herself any further. The priest 
was now returning and Genji, saying that he had not 
expected she would at once fall in with his idea and was 
confident that she would soon see the matter in a different 
light, closed the screen behind her. 
_ The night was almost over. In a chapel near by, the 
_Four Meditations of the Law Flower were being practised. 
' The voices of the ministrants who were now chanting the 
Litany of Atonement came floating on the gusty mountain- 
wind, and with this solemn sound was mingled the roar 
of hurrying waters. ’ Startled from my dream by a wander- 
ing gust of the mountain gale, I heard the waterfall, and 
at the beauty of its music wept.’ So Genji greeted the 
priest ; and he in turn replied with the poem ‘ At the noise 
of a torrent wherein I daily fill my bowl I am scarce likely 
to start back in wonder and delight.’ ‘I get so used to it,’ 


a 
q 
r 


150 THE TALE OF GENJI 


he added apologetically. A heavy mist covered the morning 
sky, and even the chirruping of the mountain-birds sounded 
muffled and dim. Such a variety of flowers and blossoming 
trees (he did not know their names) grew upon the hill-side, 
that the rocks seemed to be spread with a many-coloured 
embroidery. Above all he marvelled at the exquisite 
stepping of the deer who moved across the slope, now treading 
daintily, now suddenly pausing ; and as he watched them 
the last remnants of his sickness were dispelled by sheer 
delight. Though the hermit had little use of his limbs, he 
managed by hook or crook to perform the mystic motions 
of the Guardian Spell,t and though his aged voice was husky 
and faltering, he read the sacred text with great dignity and 
fervour. Several of Genji’s friends now arrived to con- 
gratulate him upon his recovery, among them a messenger 
from the Palace. The priest from the hut below brought 
a present of strange-looking roots for which he had gone 
deep into the ravine. He begged to be excused from 
accompanying Genji on his way. ‘ Till the end of the year,’ 
he said, ‘I am bound by a vow which must deprive me of 
what would have been a great pleasure,’ and he handed 
Genji the stirrup-cup. ‘ Were I but able to follow my 
own desires,’ said Genji taking the cup, ‘I would not leave 
these hills and streams. But I hear that my father the 
Emperor is making anxious enquiry after me. I will come 
back before the blossom is over.’ And he recited the verse 


t The Guardian Spell (goshin) is practised as follows : 

The ministrant holds the palms of his hands together with middle 
fingers touching and extended, first fingers separated and bent, tips of 
thumbs and little fingers bunched together, and third fingers in line with 
middle fingers so as to be invisible from in front. With hands in this 
sacred pose (mudra) he touches the worshipper on forehead, left and 
right shoulder, heart and throat. At each contact he utters the spell 

ON . BASARA GONJI HARAJUBATA . SOHAKA 


which is corrupt Sanskrit and means ‘ I invoke thee, thou diamond-fiery 
very majestic Star.’ The deity here invoked is Vairocana, favourite 
Buddha of the Mystic Sect. 


MURASAKI 151 


“I will go back to the men of the City and tell them to 
come quickly, lest the wild wind outstripping them should 
toss these blossoms from the cherry bough.’ The old 
priest, flattered by Genji’s politeness and captivated by the 
charm of his voice, answered with the poem: ‘ Like one 
who finds the aloe-tree in bloom, to the flower of the 
mountain-cherry I no longer turn my gaze.’ ‘I am not 
after all quite so great a rarity as the aloe-flower,’ said 
Genji smiling. 

Next the hermit handed him a parting-cup, with the 
poem ‘ Though seldom I open the pine-tree door of my 
mountain-cell, yet have I now seen face to face the flower 
few live to see,’ and as he looked up at Genji, his eyes filled 
with tears. He gave him, to keep him safe in future from 
all harm, a magical wand ; and seeing this the nun’s brother 
in his turn presented a rosary brought back from Korea 
by Prince Shotoku. It was ornamented with jade and was 
still in the same Chinese-looking box in which it had been 
brought from that country. The box was in an open-work 
bag, and a five-leafed pine-branch was with it. He also 
gave him some little vases of blue crystal to keep his 
medicines in, with sprays of cherry-blossom and wistaria 
along with them, and such other presents as the place 
could supply. Genji had sent to the Capital for gifts with 
which to repay his reception in the mountain. First he 
gave a reward to the hermit, then distributed alms to the 
priests who had chanted liturgies on his behalf, and finally 
he gave useful presents to the poor villagers of the neigh- 
bourhood. While he was reading a short passage from the 
scriptures in preparation for his departure, the old priest 
went into his house and asked his sister the nun whether 
she had any message for the Prince. ‘It is very hard to 
say anything at present,’ she said. ‘ Perhaps if he still 
felt the same inclination four, or five years hence, we might 


152 THE TALE OF GENJI 


begin to consider it.’ ‘ That is just what I think,’ said the 
priest. 

Genji saw to his regret that he had made no progress 
whatever. In answer to the nun’s message he sent a small 
boy who belonged to the priest’s household with the following 
poem: ‘Last night indeed, though in the greyness of 
twilight only, I saw the lovely flower. But to-day a hateful 
mist has hidden it utterly from my sight.’ The nun 
replied: ‘That I may know whether indeed it pains you 
so deeply to leave this flower, I shall watch intently the 
motions of this hazy sky.’ It was written in a noteworthy 
and very aristocratic hand, but quite without the graces of 
deliberate artistry. While his carriage was being got ready, 
a great company of young lords arrived from the Great 
Hall, saying that they had.been hard put to it to discover 
what had become of him and now desired to give him their 
escort. Among them were TO no Chij6, Sachi Ben, and 
other lesser lords, who had come out of affection for the 
Prince. ‘ We like nothing better than waiting upon you,’ 
they said, rather aggrieved, ‘it was not kind of you to 
leave us behind.’ ‘ But having come so far,’ said another, 
‘it would be a pity to go away without resting for a while 
under the shadow of these flowering trees’ ; whereupon 
they all sat down in a row upon the moss under a tall rock 
and passed a rough earthenware wine-jar from hand to hand. 
Close by them the stream leaped over the rocks in a mag- 
nificent cascade. TO no Chijoé pulled out a flute from the 
folds of his dress and played a few trills upon it. Sachi 
Ben, tapping idly with his fan, began to sing ‘ The Temple 
of Toyora.’ The young lords who had come to fetch him 
were all persons of great distinction; but so striking was 
Genji’s appearance as he sat leaning disconsolately against 
the rock that no eye was likely to be turned in any other 
direction. One of his attendants now performed upon the 


MURASAKI 1538 


reed-pipe ; someone else turned out to be a skilful shd+ 
player. Presently the old priest came out of his house 
carrying a zithern, and putting it into Genji’s hands begged 
him to play something, ‘ that the birds of the mountain may 
rejoice.’ He protested that he was not feeling at all in 
the mood to play; but yielding to the priest’s persuasion, 
he gave what was really not at all a contemptible perform- 
ance. After that, they all got up and started for home. 
Everyone on the mountain, down to the humblest priest 
and youngest neophyte, was bitterly disappointed at the 
shortness of his stay, and there were many tears shed ; 
while the old nun within doors was sorry to think that 
she had had but that one brief glimpse of him and might 
never see him again. The priest declared that for his part 
he thought the Land of the Rising Sun in her last degenerate 
days ill-deserved that such a Prince should be born to her, 
and he wiped his eyes. The little girl too was very much 
pleased with him and said he was a prettier gentleman than 
her own father. ‘If you think so, you had better become 
his little girl instead,’ said her nurse. At which the child 
nodded, thinking that it would be a very good plan indeed ; 
and in future the best-dressed person in the pictures she 
painted was called ‘ Prince Genji,’ and so was her hand- 
somest doll. 

On his return to the Capital he went straight to the Palace 
and described to, his father the experiences of the last two 
days. The Emperor thought him looking very haggard 
and was much concerned. He asked many questions about 
the hermit’s magical powers, to all of which Genji replied 
in great detail. ‘He ought certainly to have been made 
Master Magician long ago,’ said His Majesty. ‘ His minis- 
trations have repeatedly been attended with great success, 
but for some reason his services have escaped public 


t A Chinese instrument; often translated ‘ mouth-organ.’ 


154 THE TALE OF GENJI 


acknowledgment,’ and he issued a proclamation to this 
effect. The Minister of the Left came to meet him on his 
way from the Presence and apologized for not having come 
with his sons to bring him back from the mountain. ‘I 
thought,’ he said, ‘that as you had gone there secretly, 
you would dislike being fetched; but I very much hope 
that you will now come and spend a few days with us 
quietly ; after which I shall esteem it a privilege to escort 
you to your palace.’ He did not in the least want to go, 
but there was no escape. His father-in-law drove him to the 
Great Hall in his own carriage, and when the bullocks had 
been unyoked dragged it in at the gate with his own hands. 
Such treatment was certainly meant to be very friendly ; 
but Genji found the Minister’s attentions merely irritating. 

Aoi’s quarters had, in anticipation of Genji’s coming, 
just been put thoroughly to rights. In the long interval 
since he last visited her many changes had been made; 
among other improvements, a handsome terrace had been 
built. Not a thing was out of its right place in this 
supremely well-ordered house. Aoi, as usual, was nowhere 
to be seen. It was only after repeated entreaties by her 
father that she at last consented to appear in her husband’s 
presence. Posed like a princess in a picture she sat almost 
motionless. Beautiful she certainly was. ‘I should like 
to tell you about my visit to the mountain, if only I thought 
that it would interest you at all or draw an answer frem 
you. I hate to go on always like this. Why are you so 
cold and distant and proud? Year after year we fail to 
reach an understanding and you cut yourself off from me 
more completely than before. Can we not manage for a 
little while to be on ordinary terms? It seems rather 
strange, considering how ill I have been, that you should 
not attempt to enquire after my health. Or rather, it is 
exactly what I should expect; but nevertheless I find it 


MURASAKI 155 


extremely painful.’ ‘ Yes,’ said Aoi, ‘it is extremely 
painful when people do not care what becomes of one.’ 
She glanced back over her shoulder as she spoke, her face 
full of scorn and pride, looking uncommonly handsome as she 
did so. ‘ You hardly ever speak,’ said Genji, ‘and when 
you do, it is only to say unkind things and twist one’s harm- 
less words so that they seem to be insults. And when 
I try to find some way of helping you for a while at least 
to be a little less disagreeable, you become more hopelessly 
unapproachable than ever. Shall I one day succeed in 
making you understand ...?’ and so saying he went 
into their bedroom. She did not follow him. He lay 
for a while in a state of great annoyance and distress. But, 
probably because he did not really care about her very 
much one way or the other, he soon became drowsy and all 
sorts of quite different matters drifted through his head. 
He wanted as much as ever to have the little girl in his 
keeping and watch her grow to womanhood. But the 
grandmother was right; the child was too absurdly young, 
and it would be very difficult to broach the matter again. 
Would it not however be possible to contrive that she 
should be brought to the Capital? It would be easy then 
to find excuses for fetching her and she might, even through 
some such arrangement as that, become a source of constant 
delight to him. The father, Prince Hyobuky6, was of 
course a man of very distinguished manners; but he was 
not at all handsome. How was it that the child resembled 
one of her aunts and was so unlike all the rest? He had 
an idea that Fujitsubo and Prince Hyobukyo were children 
_of the same mother, while the others were only half-sisters. 
' The fact that the little girl was closely related to the lady 
whom he had loved for so long made him all the more set 
upon securing her, and he began again to puzzle his head 
for some means of bringing this about. \ 


156 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Next day he wrote his letter of thanks to the priest. 
No doubt it contained some allusion to his project. To the 
nun he wrote: ‘Seeing you so resolutely averse to what I 
had proposed, I refrained from justifying my intentions 
so fully as I could have wished. But should it prove that, 
even by the few words I ventured to speak, I was able to 
convince you that this is no mere whim or common fancy, 
how happy would such news make me.’ On a slip of paper 
folded small and tucked into the letter he wrote the poem : 
‘Though with all my heart I tried to leave it behind me, 
never for a moment has it left me,—the fair face of that 
mountain-flower!’ ‘Though she had long passed the zenith 
of her years the nun could not but be pleased and flattered 
by the elegance of the note; for it was not only written 
in an exquisite hand, but was folded with a careless dexterity 
which she greatly admired. She felt very sorry for him, 
and would have been glad, had it been in her conscience, 
to have sent him a more favourable reply. ‘We were 
delighted,’ she wrote, ‘that being in the neighbourhood 
you took occasion to pay us a visit. But I fear that when 
(as I very much hope you will) you come here purposely 
to visit us, I shall not be able to add anything to what I 
have said already. As for the poem which you enclose, 
do not expect her to answer it, for she cannot yet write 
her “ Naniwa Zu’’! properly, even letter by letter. Let 
me then answer it for her: ‘‘ For as long as the cherry- 
blossoms remain unscattered upon the shore of Onoe where 
wild storms blow,—so long have you till now been con- 
stant!’’ For my part, I am very uneasy about the 
matter.’ 

The priest replied to the same effect. Genji was very 
much disappointed and after two or three days he sent 
for Koremitsu and gave him a letter for the nun, telling 


t A song the words of which were used as a first writing lesson. 


MURASAKT 157 


him at the same time to find out whatever he could from 
Shonagon, the child’s nurse. ‘What an impressionable 
character he is,’ thought Koremitsu. He had only had a 
glimpse of the child; but that had sufficed to convince 
him that she was a mere baby, though he remembered 
thinking her quite pretty. What trick would his master’s 
heart be playing upon him next ? 

The old priest was deeply impressed by the arrival of a 
letter in the hands of so special and confidential a messenger. 
After delivering it, Koremitsu sought out the nurse. He 
repeated all that Genji had told him to say and added a 
great deal of general information about his master. Being 
a man of many words he talked on and on, continually 
introducing some new topic which had suddenly occurred 
to him as relevant. But at the end of it all Shénagon was 
just as puzzled as everyone else had been to account for 
Genji’s interest in a child so ridiculously young. His letter 
was very deferential. In it he said that he longed to see 
a specimen of her childish writing done letter by letter, 
as the nun had described. As before, he enclosed a poem : 
“Was it the shadows in the mountain well that told you 
my purpose was but jest?’ To which she answered 
“Some perhaps that have drawn in that well now bitterly 
repent. Can the shadows tell me if again it will be so?’ 
and Koremitsu brought a spoken message to the same effect, 
together with the assurance that so soon as the nun’s health 
improved, she intended to visit the Capital and would then 
communicate with him again. The prospect of her visit 
was very exciting. 

About this time Lady Fujitsubo fell ill and retired for 
a while from the Palace. The sight of the Emperor's grief 
and anxiety moved Genji’ s pity. But he could not help 
thinking that this was an opportunity which must not be 


* There is here a pun, and a reference to poem 3807 in the M anyoshia. 


158 THE TALE OF GENJI 
missed. He spent the whole of that day in a state of great 


agitation, unable whether in his own house use or at the Palace 

to think of anything else -or-call upon anyone, When at 
last the day was over, he succeeded in persuading her maid 
Omydbu to take a message. The girl, though she regarded 
any communication between them as most imprudent, 
seeing a strange look in his face like that of one who walks 
in a dream, took pity on him and went. The Princess 
looked back upon their former relationship _as_something 
wicked and horrible and the ‘memory of it was a continual 
torment to her. She had determined that such a thing 
must never happen again. 

She met him with a stern and sorrowful countenance, 
but this did not disguise her charm, and as though conscious 
that he was unduly admiring her she began to treat him 
with great coldness and disdain. He longed to find some 
blemish in her, to think that he had been et and 
be at peace. 

I need not tell all that happened. The night passed 
only too quickly. He whispered in her ear the poem: 
* Now that at last we have met, would that we might vanish 
forever into the dream we dreamed to-night!’ But she, 
still conscience-stricken: ‘Though I were to hide in the 
darkness of eternal sleep, yet would my shame run through 
the world from tongue to tongue.” And indeed, as Genji 
knew, it was not without good cause that she had suddenly 
fallen into this fit of apprehension and remorse. As he left, 
Omy6dbu came running after him with his cloak and other 
belongings which he had left behind. He lay all day upon 
his bed in great torment. He sent a letter, but it was 
returned unopened. This had happened many times in 
the past, but now it filled him with ‘such_consternation 
that for two or three days he was completely. prostrate. 
and kept his room. All this while he was in constant 








MURASAKIT 159 


dread lest his father, full of solicitude, should begin enquiring 
what new trouble had overtaken him. Fujitsubo, con- 
vinced that her ruin was accomplished, fell into a profound 
melancholy and her health grew daily worse. Messengers 
arrived constantly from the Court begging her to return 
without delay; but she could not bring herself, to go. 
Her disorder had now taken a turn which filled her with 
secret foreboding, and she did nothing all day long but 
sit distractedly wondering what would become of her. 
When the hot weather set in she ceased to leave her bed 
at all. Three months had now passed and there was no 
mistaking her condition. Soon it would be known and 
everywhere discussed. She was appalled at the calamity 
which had overtaken her. Not knowing that there was any 
cause for secrecy, her people were astonished that she had 
not long ago informed the Emperor of her condition. 
Speculations were rife, but the question was one which 
only the Princess herself was in a position definitely to 
solve. Omyébu and her old nurse’s daughter who waited 
upon her at her toilet and in the bath-house had at once 
noted the change and were somewhat taken aback. But 
Omydbu was unwilling to discuss the matter. She had an 
uncomfortable suspicion that it was the meeting which she 
arranged that had now taken effect with cruel promptness 
and precision. It was announced in the Palace that other 
disorders had misled those about her and prevented them 
from recognizing the true nature of her condition. This 
explanation was accepted by everyone. 

The Emperor himself was full of tender concern, and 
though messengers kept him constantly informed, the 
gloomiest doubts and fancies passed continually through 
hismind. Genji was at this time visited by a most terrifying 
and extraordinary dream. He sent for interpreters, but 
they could make little of it. There were indeed certain 


160 THE TALE OF GENJI 


passages to which they could assign no meaning at all; 
but this much was clear: the dreamer had made a false 
step and must be on his guard. ‘It was not my dream’ 
said Genji, feeling somewhat alarmed. ‘I am consulting 
you on behalf of someone else,’ and he was wondering 
what this ‘ false step’ could have been when news reached 
him of the Princess’s condition. This then was the disaster 
which his dream had portended! At once he wrote her 
an immense letter full of passionate self-reproaches and 
exhortations. But Omydbu, thinking that it would only 
increase her agitation, refused to deliver it, and he could 
trust no other messenger. Even the few wretched lines 
which she had been in the habit of sending to him now and 
again had for some while utterly ceased. 

In her seventh month she again appeared at Court. Over- 
joyed at her return, the Emperor lavished boundless 
affection upon her. The added fulness of her figure, the 
unwonted pallor and thinness of her face gave her, he thought, 
a new and incomparable charm. As before, all his leisure 
was spent in her company. During this time several 
Court festivals took place and Genji’s presence was con- 
stantly required ; sometimes he was called upon to play 
the koto or flute, sometimes to serve his father in other 
ways. On such occasions, strive as he might to show no 
trace of embarrassment or agitation, he feared more than 
once that he had betrayed himself; while to her such 
confrontations were one long torment. 

The nun had somewhat improved in health and was now 
living in the Capital. He had enquired where she was 
lodging and sent messages from time to time, receiving 
(which indeed was all he expected) as little encouragement 
as before. In the last months his longing for the child 
had increased rather than diminished, but day after day 
went by without his finding any means to change the 


MURASAKI 161 


situation. As the autumn drew to its close, he fell into a 
state of great despondency. One fine moonlit night when 
he had decided, against his own inclination, to pay a certain 
secret visit,t a shower came on. As he had started from 
the Palace and the place to which he was going was in the 
suburbs of the Sixth Ward, it occurred to him that it 
would be disagreeable to go so far in the rain. He was 
considering what he should do when he noticed a tumbled- 
down house surrounded by very ancient trees. He asked 
whose this gloomy and desolate mansion might be, and 
Koremitsu, who, as usual, was with him replied: ‘ Why 
that is the late Azechi no Dainagon’s house. A day or 
two ago I took occasion to call there and was told that my 
Lady the nun has grown very weak and does not now know 
what goes on about her.’ ‘ Why did you not tell me this 
before ?’ said Genji deeply concerned; ‘I should have 
called at once to convey my sympathy to her household. 
Pray go in at once and ask for news.’ Koremitsu accord- 
ingly sent one of the lesser attendants to the house, in- 
structing him to give the impression that Genji had come 
on purpose to enquire. When the man announced that 
Prince Genji had sent him for news and was himself waiting 
outside, great excitement and consternation prevailed in 
the house. Their mistress, the servants said, had for 
several days been lying in a very parlous condition and 
could not possibly receive a visit. But they dared not 
simply send so distinguished a visitor away, and hastily 
tidying the southern parlour, they bustled him into it, 
saying, ‘ You must forgive us for showing you into this 
untidy room. We have done our best to make it present- 
able. Perhaps, on a surprise visit, you will forgive us for 
conducting you to such an out-of-the-way closet... .’ 
It was indeed not at all the kind of room that he was used 
t To Lady Rokujé. 
11 


162 THE TALE OF GENJI 


to. ‘I have been meaning for a long while to visit this ” 
house,’ said Genji; ‘but time after time the proposals 
which I made in writing concerning a certain project of 
mine were summarily rejected and this discouraged me. | 
Had I but known that your mistress’s health had taken 
this turn for the worse....’ ‘Tell him that at this 
moment my mind is clear, though it may soon be darkened 
again. JI am deeply sensible of the kindness he has shown 
in thus visiting my death-bed, and regret that I cannot 
speak with him face to face. Tell him that if by any chance 
he has not altered his mind with regard to the matter that 
he has discussed with me before, by all means let him, 
when the time has come, number her among the ladies of 
his household. It is with great anxiety that I leave her 
behind me and I fear that such a bond with earth may 
hinder me from reaching the life for which I have prayed.’ 
Her room was so near and the partition so thin that as 
she gave Shonagon her message he could hear now and 
again the sound of her sad, quavering voice. Presently he 
heard her saying to someone ‘ How kind, how very kind 
of him to come. If only the child were old enough to 
thank him nicely!’ ‘It is indeed no question of kindness,’ 
said Genji to Shénagon. ‘Surely it is evident that only 
some very deep feeling would have driven me to display 
so zealous a persistency! Since first I saw this child, a 
feeling of strange tenderness towards her possessed me, 
and it has grown to such a love as cannot be of this world 
only.t Though it is but an idle fancy, I have a longing to 
hear her voice. Could you not send for her before I go?’ 
‘ Poor little thing,’ said Shonagon. ‘She is fast asleep in 
her room and knows nothing of all our troubles.’ But as 
she spoke there was a sound of someone moving in the 
women’s quarters and a voice suddenly was heard saying: 


t Arises out of some connection in a previous existence. 


MURASAKI 168 


‘Grandmother, Grandmother! Prince Genji who came to 
see us in the mountains is here, paying a visit. Why do 
you not let him come and talk to you?’ ‘ Hush, child, 
hush !’ cried all the gentlewomen, scandalized. ‘No, no,’ 
said the child ; ‘ Grandmother said that when she saw this 
prince it made her feel better at once. I was not being 
silly at all.’ This speech delighted Genji; but the gentle- 
women of the household thought the child’s incursion 
painful and unseemly, and pretended not to hear her last 
remark, Genji gave up the idea of paying a real visit 
and drove back to his house, thinking as he went that her 
behaviour was indeed still that of a mere infant. Yet how 
easy and delightful it would be to teach her! 

Next day he paid a proper visit. On his arrival he sent 
in a poem written on his usual tiny slip of paper: ‘ Since 
first I heard the voice of the young crane, my boat shows 
a strange tendency to stick among the reeds!’ It was 
meant for the little girl and was written in a large, childish 
hand, but very beautifully, so that the ladies of the house 
said as soon as they saw it ‘ This will have to go into the 
child’s copy-book.’ 

Shénagon sent him the following note: ‘ My mistress, 
feeling that she might not live through the day, asked us 
to have her moved to the temple in the hills, and she is 
already on her way. I shall see to it that she learns of 
your enquiry, if I can but send word to her before it is too 
late.’ The letter touched him deeply. 

During these autumn evenings his heart was in a con- 
tinual ferment, But though all his thoughts were occupied 
in a different quarter, yet owing to the curious relationship 
in which the child stood to the being who thus obsessed 
his mind, the desire to make the girl his own throughout 
this stormy time grew daily stronger. He remembered 
_ the evening when he had first seen her and the nun’s poem, 


164 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘Not knowing if any will come to nurture the tender leaf. 
.’ She would always be delightful; but in some 
respects she might not fulfil her early promise. One must 
take risks. And he made the poem: ‘ When shall I see 
it lying in my hand, the young grass of the moor-side that 
springs from purple! roots?’ In the tenth month the 
Emperor was to visit the Suzaku-in for the Festival of 
Red Leaves. The dancers were all to be sons of the noblest 
houses. The most accomplished among the princes, cour- 
tiers and other great gentlemen had been chosen for their 
parts by the Emperor himself, and from the Royal Princes 
and State Ministers downward everyone was busy with 
continual practices and rehearsals. Genji suddenly realized 
that for a long while he had not enquired after his friends 
on the mountain. He at once sent a special messenger 
who brought back this letter from the priest: ‘ The end 
came on the twentieth day of last month. It is the common - 
lot of mankind; yet her loss is very grievous to me!’ 
This and more he wrote, and Genji, reading the letter was 
filled with a bitter sense of life’s briefness and futility. 
And what of the child concerning whose future the dead 
woman had shown such anxiety ? He could not remember 
his own mother’s death at all distinctly; but some dim 
recollection still floated in his mind and gave to his letter 
of condolence an added warmth of feeling. It was answered, 
not without a certain self-importance, by the nurse Shonagon, 
After the funeral and mourning were over, the child was 
brought back to the Capital. Hearing of this he allowed 
a short while to elapse and then one fine, still night went 
to the house of his own accord. This gloomy, decaying, 
half-deserted mansion must, he thought, have a most 
depressing effect upon the child who lived there. He was 


1 Purple is murasaki in Japanese. From this poem the child is known 
as Murasaki; and hence the authoress derived the nickname by which 
she too is known. 


MURASAKI 165 


shown into the same small room as before. Here Shonagon 
told him between her sobs the whole tale of their bereave- 
ment, at which he too found himself strangely moved. 
' * T would send my little mistress to His Highness her father’s,’ 
* she continued, ‘ did I not remember how cruelly her poor 
mother was used in that house. And I would do it still 
if my little lady were a child in arms who would not know 
where she had been taken to nor what the people there 
were feeling towards her. But she is now too big a girl 
to go among a lot of strange children who might not treat 
her kindly. So her poor dead grandmother was always 
saying down to her last day. You, Sir, have been very 
good to us, and it would be a great weight off my mind to 
know that she was coming to you even if it were only 
for a little while; and I would not worry you with asking 
what was to become of her afterwards. Only for her sake 
I am sorry indeed that she is not some years older, so that 
you might make a match of it. But the way she has been 
brought up has made her young even for her age.’ ‘ You 
need not so constantly remind me of her childishness,’ said 
Genji.¢ ‘Though it is indeed her youth and helplessness 
which move my compassion, yet I realize (and why should 
I hide it from myself or from you ?) that a far closer bond 
unites our souls.; Let me tell her myself what we have 
just now decided,’ and he recited a poem in which he asked 
if ‘like the waves that lap the shore where young reeds 
grow he must advance only to recede again.’ ‘ Will she 
be too much surprised ?’ he added. Shonagon, saying that 
the little girl should by all means be fetched, answered his 
poem with another in which she warned him that he must 
not expect her to ‘ drift seaweed-like with the waves,’ before 
she understood his intention. ‘ Now, what made you think 
I should send you away without letting her see you?’ she 
asked, speaking in an off-hand, familiar tone which he 


166 THE TALE OF GENJI 


found it easy to pardon. His appearance, which the 
gentlewomen of the house studied with great care while he 
sat waiting for the child and singing to himself a verse of 
the song Why so hard to cross the hill? made a deep im- 
pression upon them, and they did not forget that moment 
for a long while after. 

The child was lying on her bed weeping for her grand- 
mother. ‘A gentleman in a big cloak has come to play 
with you,’ said one of the women who were waiting upon 
her ; ‘ I wonder if it is your father.’ At this she jumped up 
and cried out: ‘ Nurse, where is the gentleman in a cloak ? 
Is he my father?’ and she came running into the room. 
‘No,’ said Genji, ‘it is not your father; but it is someone 
else who wants you to be very fond of him. Come.... ’ 
She had learnt from the way people talked about him that 
Prince Genji was someone very important, and feeling 
that he must really be very angry with her for speaking of 
him as the ‘ gentleman in a cloak’ she went straight to 
her nurse and whispered ‘ Please, I am sleepy.’ ‘ You must 
not be shy of me any more,’ said Genji. ‘ If you are sleepy, 
come here and lie on my knee. Will you not even come 
and talk to me?’ ‘ There,’ said Shdnagon, “ you see what 
a little savage she is,’ and pushed the child towards him. 
She stood listlessly by his side, passing her hand under her 
hair so that it fell in waves over her soft dress or clasping 
a great bunch of it where it stuck out thick around her 
shoulders. Presently he took her hand in his; but at 
once, in terror of this close contact with someone to whom 
she was not used, she cried out ‘I said I wanted to go to 
bed,’ and snatching her hand away she ran into the women’s 
quarters. He followed her crying ‘ Dear one, do not run 
away from me! Now that your granny is gone, you must 
love me instead.’ ‘Well!’ gasped Shdnagon, deeply 
shocked. ‘No, that is too much! How can you bring 


MURASAKI 167 


yourself to say such a wicked thing to the poor child? 
And it is not much use Zelling people to be fond of one, is 
it?’ ‘For the moment, it may not be,’ said Genji. ‘ But 
you will see that strange things happen if one’s heart is 
set upon a thing as mine is now.’ 

Hail was falling. It was a wild and terrible night. The 
thought of leaving her to pass it in this gloomy and half- 
deserted mansion immeasurably depressed him and snatching 
at this excuse for remaining near her: ‘ Shut the partition- 
door!’ he cried. ‘I will stay for a while and play the 
watchman here on this terrible night. Draw near to me, 
all of you!’ and so saying, as though it were the most 
natural thing in the world, he picked up the child in his 
arms and carried her to her bed. The gentlewomen were 
far too astonished and confounded to budge from their 
seats ; while Shonagon, though his high-handed proceedings 
greatly agitated and alarmed her, had to confess to herself 
that there was no real reason to interfere, and could only 
sit moaning in her corner. The little girl was at first terribly 
frightened. She did not know what he was going to do 
with her and shuddered violently. Even the feel of his 
delicate, cool skin when he drew her to him, gave her 
goose-flesh. He saw this; but none the less he began 
gently and carefully to remove her outer garments, and 
laid her down. Then, though he knew quite well that she 
was still frightened of him, he began talking to her softly 
and tenderly : ‘ How would you like to come with me one 
day to a place where there are lots of lovely pictures and 
dolls and toys?’ And he went on to speak so feelingly of 
all the things she was most interested in that soon she felt 
almost at home with him. But for a long while she was 
restless and did not go properly to sleep. The storm still 
raged. ‘ Whatever should we have done if this gentleman 
had not been here,’ whispered one of the women ; ‘I know 


168 THE TALE OF GENJI 


that for my part I should have been in a terrible fright. If 
only our little lady were nearer to his age!’ Shonagon, 
still mistrustful, sat quite close to Genji all the while. 

At last the wind began to drop. The night was far 
spent; but his return at such an hour would cause no 
surprise! ‘She has become so dear to me,’ said Genji, 
‘that, above all at this sad time in her life, I am loath to 
leave her even for a few short hours. I think I shall put 
her somewhere where I can see her whenever I wish. I 
wonder that she is not frightened to live in such a place 
as this.’ ‘I think her father spoke of coming to fetch 
her,’ said Shonagon ; ‘ but that is not likely to be till the 
Forty-nine Days are up.’ ‘It would of course under 
ordinary circumstances be natural that her father should 
look after her,’ admitted Genji; ‘but as she has been 
brought up entirely by someone else she has no more 
reason to care for him than for me. And though I have 
known her so short a time, I am certainly far fonder of 
her than her father can possibly be.’ So saying he stroked 
the child’s hair and then reluctantly, with many backward 
glances, left the room. ‘There was now a heavy white fog, 
and hoar-frost lay thick on the grass. Suddenly he found 
himself wishing that it were a real love-affair, and he became 
very depressed. It occurred to him that on his way home 
he would pass by a certain house which he had once familiarly 
frequented. He knocked at the door, but no one answered. 
He then ordered one of his servants who had a strong voice 
to recite the following lines: ‘ By my Sister’s gate though 
morning fog makes all the world still dark as night, I could 
not fail to pause.’ When this had been sung twice, the lady 
sent an impertinent coxcomb of a valet to the door, who 
having recited the poem ‘ If you disliked the hedge of fog 
that lies about this place, a gate of crazy wicker would not 
keep you standing in the street,’ at once went back again 


MURASAKI 169 


into the house. He waited; but no one else came to the 
door, and though he was in no mood to go dully home 
since it was now broad daylight, what else could be done? 
At his palace he lay for a long while smiling to himself 
with pleasure as he recollected the child’s pretty speeches 
and ways. Towards noon he rose and began to write a 
letter to her; but he could not find the right words, and 
after many times laying his brush aside he determined at 
last to send her some nice pictures instead. 

That day Prince Hydbuky6 paid his long-promised visit 
to the late nun’s house. The place seemed to him even 
more ruinous, vast and antiquated than he remembered it 
years ago. How depressing it must be for a handful of 
persons to live in these decaying halls, and looking about 
him he said to the nurse: ‘ No child ought to live in a place 
like this even for a little while. I must take her away at 
once; there is plenty of room in my house. You’ (turning 
to Shoénagon) ‘ shall be found a place as a Lady-in-Waiting 
there. The child will be very well off, for there are several 
other young people for her to play with.’ He called the 
little girl to him and noticing the rich perfume that clung 
to her dress since Genji held her in his arms, the Prince 
said ‘ How nicely your dress is scented. But isn’t it rather 
drab?’ No sooner had he said this than he remembered 
that she was in mourning, and felt slightly uncomfortable. 
“I used sometimes to tell her grandmother,’ he continued, 
“that she ought to let her come to see me and get used to 
our ways; for indeed it was a strange upbringing for her 
to live alone year in year out with one whose health and 
spirits steadily declined. But she for some reason was 
very unfriendly towards me, and there was in another 
quarter ! too a reluctance which I fear even at such a time 
as this may not be wholly overcome....’ ‘If that is 


t His wife. 


170 THE TALE OF GENJI 


so,’ said Shonagon, ‘ dull as it is for her here, I do not 
think she should be moved till she is a little better able to 
shift for herself.’ 

For days on end the child had been in a terrible state of 
grief, and not having eaten the least bite of anything she 
was grown very thin, but was none the less lovely for that. 
He looked at her tenderly and said: ‘ You must not cry 
any more now. When people die, there is no help for it 
and we must bear it bravely. But now all is well, for I 
have come instead. ...’ But it was getting late and he 
could not stay any longer. As he turned to go he saw 
that the child, by no means consoled at the prospect of falling 
under his care, was again crying bitterly. The Prince, 
himself shedding a few tears did his best to comfort her : 
‘Do not grieve so,’ he said, ‘ to-day or to-morrow I will 
send for you to come and live with me,’ and with that he 
departed. Still the child wept and no way could be found 
to distract her thoughts. It was not of course that she 
had any anxiety about her own future, for about such 
matters she had not yet begun to think at all; but only 
that she had lost the companion from whom for years on 
end she had never for a moment been separated. Young 
as she was, she suffered so cruelly that all her usual games 
were quite abandoned, and though sometimes during the 
day her spirits would a little improve, as night drew on she 
became so melancholy that Shonagon began to wonder 
how much longer things would go on like this, and in despair 
at not being able to comfort her, would herself burst into 
tears. 

Presently Koremitsu arrived with a message saying that 
Genji had intended to visit them, but owing to a sudden 
command from the Palace was unable to do so, and being 
very much perturbed at the little one’s grievous condition 
had sent for further news, Having delivered this message 


MURASAKI 171 


Koremitsu brought in some of Genji’s servants whom he 
had sent to mount guard over the house that night. ‘ This 
kindness is indeed ill-placed,’ said Shénagon. ‘It may 
not seem to him of much consequence that his gentlemen 
should be installed here; but if the child’s father hears of 
it, we servants shall get all the blame for the little lady’s 
being given away to a married gentleman. It was you 
who let it all begin, we shall be told. Now be careful,’ 
she said turning to her fellow-servants, ‘ do not let her even 
mention these watchmen to her father.’ But alas, the 
child was quite incapable of understanding such a prohi- 
bition, and Shénagon, after pouring out many lamentations 
to Koremitsu, continued: ‘I do not doubt but that in 
due time she will somchow become his wife, for so their 
fate seems to decree. But now and for a long while there 
can be no talk of any such thing, and this, as he has roundly 
told me, he knows as well as the rest of us. So what he is 
after I cannot for the life of me imagine. Only to-day 
when Prince Hydbuky6 was here he bade me keep a sharp 
eye upon her and not let her be treated with any indis- 
cretion. I confess when he said it I remembered with 
vexation certain liberties which I have allowed your master 
to take, thinking little enough of them at the time.’ No 
sooner had she said this than she began to fear that Kore- 
mitsu would put a worse construction on her words than 
she intended, and shaking her head very dolefully she 
relapsed into silence. Nor was she far wrong, for Koremitsu 
was indeed wondering of what sort Genji’s misdemeanours 
could have been. 

On hearing Koremitsu’s report Genji’s heart was filled 
with pity for the child’s state and he would like to have 
gone to her at once. But he feared that ignorant people 
would misunderstand these frequent visits and, thinking 
the girl older than she was, spread foolish scandals abroad. 


172 THE TALE OF GENJI 


It would be far simpler-to fetch her to his Palace and keep 
her there. All through the day he sent numerous letters, 
and at dusk Koremitsu again went to the house saying 
that urgent business had once more prevented Genji from 
visiting them, for which remissness he tendered his 
apologies. Shdnagon answered curtly that the girl’s father 
had suddenly decided to fetch her away next day and that 
they were too busy to receive visits: ‘ The servants are 
all in a fluster at leaving this shabby old house where they 
have lived so long and going to a strange, grand place. .. . ’ 
She answered his further questions so briefly and seemed 
so intent upon her sewing, that Koremitsu went away. 

Genji was at the Great Hall, but as usual he had been 
unable to get a word out of Aoi and in a gloomy mood he 
was plucking at his zithern and singing ‘ Why sped you 
across field and hill So fast upon this rainy night ? ’ ? 

The words of the song were aimed at Aoi and he sang 
them with much feeling. He was thus employed when 
Koremitsu arrived at the Great Hall. Genji sent for him 
at once and bade him tell his story. Koremitsu’s news 
was very disquieting. Once she was in her father’s palace 
it would look very odd that Genji should fetch her away, 
even if she came willingly. It would inevitably be rumoured 
abroad that he had made off with her like a child-snatcher, 
a thief. Far better to anticipate his rival and exacting a 
promise of silence from the people about her, carry her off 
to his own palace immediately. ‘I shall go there at day- 
break,’ he said to Koremitsu; ‘ Order the carriage that 
I came here in, it can be used just as it is, and see to it 
that one or two attendants are ready to go with me.’ 
Koremitsu bowed and retired. 

Genji knew that whichever course he chose, there was 


t The song is addressed by a girl to a suspicious lover; Genji reverses 
the sense. 


MURASAKI 178 


bound to be a scandal so soon as the thing became known. 
Inevitably gossips would spread the report that, young 
though she was, the child by this time knew well enough 
why she had been invited to live with Prince Genji in his 
palace. Let them draw their own conclusions. That did 
not matter. There was a much worse possibility. What 
if Hydbuky6 found out where she was? His conduct in 
abducting another man’s child would appear in the highest 
degree outrageous and discreditable. He was sorely puzzled, 
but he knew that if he let this opportunity slip he would 
afterwards bitterly repent it, and long before daybreak he 
started on his way. Aoi was cold and sullen as ever. ‘I 
have just remembered something very important which I 
must see about at home,’ he said; ‘I shall not be away 
long,’ and he slipped out so quietly that the servants of 
the house did not know that he was gone. His cloak was 
brought to him from his own apartments and he drove off 
attended only by Koremitsu who followed on horseback. 
After much knocking they succeeded in getting the gate 
opened, but by a servant who was not in the secret. Kore- 
mitsu ordered the man to pull in Genji’s carriage as quietly 
as he could and himself went straight to the front door, 
which he rattled, coughing as he did so that Shénagon 
_ might know who was there. ‘ My lord is waiting,’ he said 
when she came to the door. ‘ But the young lady is fast 
asleep,’ said Shonagon ; ‘his Highness has no business to 
be up and about at this time of night.’ She said this 
thinking that he was returning from some nocturnal 
escapade and had only called there in passing. ‘I hear,’ 
said Genji now coming forward, ‘that the child is to be 
moved to her father’s and I have something of importance 
which I must say to her before she goes.’ ‘ Whatever 
business you have to transact with her, I am sure she will 
give the matter her closest attention,’ scoffed Shonagon. 


174 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Matters of importance indeed, with a child of ten! Genji 
entered the women’s quarters. ‘ You cannot go in there,’ 
cried Sh6nagon in horror; ‘several aged ladies are lying 
all undressed. ...’” ‘ Theyare all fast asleep,’ said Genji. 
‘See, I am only rousing the child,’ and bending over her : 
‘ The morning mist is rising,’ he cried, ‘it is time to wake !’ 
And before Shénagon had time to utter a sound, he had 
taken the child in his arms and begun gently to rouse her. 
Still half-dreaming, she thought it was the prince her father 
who had come to fetch her. ‘Come,’ said Genji while he 
put her hair to rights, ‘ your father has sent me to bring 
you back with me to his palace.’ For a moment she was 
dazed to find that it was not her father and shrank from 
him in fright. ‘ Never mind whether it is your father or 
I,’ he cried ; ‘it is all the same,’ and so saying he picked 
her up in his arms and carried her out of the inner room. 
‘Well!’ cried out Koremitsu and Shénagon in astonish- 
ment. What would he do next? ‘It seems,’ said Genji, 
‘that you were disquieted at my telling you I could not 
visit her here as often as I wished and would make arrange- 
ments for her to go to a more convenient place. I hear 
that you are sending her where it will be even more difficult 
for me to see her. Therefore . . . make ready one or the 
other of you to come with me.’ 

Shonagon, who now realized that he was going to make 
off with the child, fell into a terrible fluster. ‘O Sir,’ she 
said, ‘ you could not have chosen a worse time. To-day 
her father is coming to fetch her, and whatever shall I say 
to him? If only you would wait, I am sure it would all — 
come right in the end. But by acting so hastily you will 
do yourself no good and leave the poor servants here in 
a sad pickle.’ ‘ If that is all,’ cried Genji, ‘ let them follow 
as soon as they choose,’ and to Shénagon’s despair he had 
the carriage brought in. The child stood by weeping and 


MURASAKI 175 


bewildered. There seemed no way of preventing him 
from carrying out his purpose and gathering together the 
child’s clothes that she had been sewing the night before, 
the nurse put on her own best dress and stepped into the 
carriage. Genji’s house was not far off and they arrived 
before daylight. They drew up in front of the western 
wing and Genji alighted. Taking the child lightly in his 
arms he set her on the ground. Shdnagon, to whom these 
strange events seemed like a dream, hesitated as though 
still uncertain whether she should enter the house or no. 
“There is no need for you to come in if you do not want 
to,’ said Genji. ‘ Now that the child herself is safely here 
I am quite content. If you had rather go back, you have 
only to say so and I will escort you.’ 

Reluctantly she left the carriage. The suddenness of the 
move was in itself enough to have upset her; but she was 
also worrying about what Prince Hydbuky6 would think 
when he found that his child had vanished. And indeed 
what was going to become of her? One way or another 
all her mistresses seemed to be taken from her and it was 
only when she became frightened of having wept for so long 
on end that she at last dried her eyes and began to pray. 

The western wing had long been uninhabited and was 
not completely furnished ; but Koremitsu had soon fitted 
up screens and curtains where they were required. For 
Genji makeshift quarters were soon contrived by letting 
down the side-wings of his screen-of-honour. He sent to 
the other part of the house for his night things and went 
to sleep. The child, who had been put to bed not far off, 
was still very apprehensive and ill at ease in these new 
surroundings, Her lips were trembling, but she dared not 
cry out loud. ‘I want to sleep with Shdnagon,’ she said 
at last in a tearful, babyish voice. ‘ You are getting too 
big to sleep with a nurse,’ said Genji, who had heard her. 


/ 


176 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘You must try and go to sleep nicely where you are.’ She 
felt very lonely and lay weeping for a long while. The 
nurse was far too much upset to think of going to bed and 
sat up for the rest of the night in the servants’ quarters 
crying so bitterly that she was unconscious of all that 
went on around her. 

But when it grew light she began to look about her a 
little. Not only this great palace with its marvellous 
pillars and carvings, but the sand in the courtyard outside 
which seemed to her like a carpet of jewels made so dazzling 
an impression upon her that at first she felt somewhat 
overawed. However, the fact that she was now no longer ina 
household of women gave her an agreeable sense of security 

It was the hour at which business brought various strangers 
to the house. There were several men walking just outside 
her window and she heard one of them whisper to another : 
‘ They say that someone new has come to live here. Who 
can it be, I wonder? A lady of note, I’ll warrant you.’ 

Bath water was brought from the other wing, and steamed 
rice for breakfast. Genji did not rise till far on into the 
morning. ‘It is not good for the child to be alone,’ he 
said to Shénagon, ‘so last night before I came to you I 
arranged for some little people to come and stay here,’ and 
so saying he sent a servant to ‘fetch the little girls from 
the eastern wing.’ He had given special orders that they 
_ were to be as small as possible and now four of the tiniest 
and prettiest creatures imaginable arrived upon the scene. 

Murasaki was still asleep, lying wrapped in Genji’s own 
coat. It was with difficulty that he roused her. ‘ You 
must not be sad any more,’ he said; ‘If I were not very 
fond of you, should I be looking after you like this? Little 
girls ought to be very gentle and obedient in their ways.’ 
And thus her education was begun. 

She seemed to him, now that he could sft her at leisure, 


MURASAKI 177 


even more lovely than he had realized and they were soon 
engaged in an affectionate conversation. He sent for 
delightful pictures and toys to show her and set to work to 
amuse her in every way he could. Gradually he persuaded 
her to get up and look about her. In her shabby dress 
made of some dark grey material she looked so charming 
now that she was laughing and playing, with all her woes 
forgotten, that Genji too laughed with pleasure as he watched 
her. When at last he retired to the eastern wing, she went 
out of doors to look at the garden. As she picked her way 
among the trees and along the side of the lake, and gazed 
with delight upon the frosty flower-beds that glittered gay 
as a picture, while a many-coloured throng of unknown 
people passed constantly in and out of the house, she began 
to think that this was a very nice place indeed. Then she 
looked at the wonderful pictures that were painted on all 
the panels and screens and quite lost her heart to them, 

For two or three days Genji did not go to the Palace, 
but spent all his time amusing the little girl. Finally he 
drew all sorts of pictures for her to put into her copy-book, 
showing them to her one by one as he did so. She thought 
them the loveliest set of pictures she had ever seen. Then 
he wrote part of the Musashi-no poem. She was delighted 
by the way it was written in bold ink-strokes on a back- 
ground stained with purple. In a smaller hand was the 
poem: ‘ Though the parent-root 2 I cannot see, yet tenderly 
I love its off-shoot,3—the dewy plant that grows upon 
Musashi Moor.’ ‘Come’ said Genji while she was admiring 
it, ‘you must write something too.’ ‘I cannot write 
properly yet’ she answered, looking up at him with a 


t “Though I know not the place, yet when they told me this was the 
moor of Musashi, the thought flashed through my mind: ‘“ What else 
indeed could it be, since all its grass is purple-dyed ? ”’’ 

2 Fujitsubo. The fuji flower is also purple (murasakt) in colour. 

3 The child Murasaki, who was Fujitsubo’s niece. Musashi was famous 
for the purple dye extracted from the roots of a grass that grew there. 


12 


. 


178 THE TALE OF GENJI 


witchery so wholly unconscious that Genji laughed. ‘ Even 
if you cannot write properly it will never do for us to let 
you off altogether. Let me give you a lesson.’ With 
many timid glances towards him she began to write. Even 
the childish manner in which she grasped the brush gave 
him a thrill of delight which he was at a loss to explain. 
‘Oh, I have spoiled it ’ she suddenly cried out and blushing 
hid from him what she had written. But he forced her 
to let him see it and found the poem: ‘I do not know what 
put Musashi into your head and am very puzzled. What 
plant is it that you say is a relative of mine?’ It was 
written in a large childish hand which was indeed very 
undeveloped, but was nevertheless full of promise. It 
showed a strong resemblance to the late nun’s writing. 
He felt certain that if she were given up-to-date copy-books 
she would soon write very nicely. 

Next they built houses for the dolls and played so long 
at this game together that Genji forgot for a while the great 
anxiety ' which was at that time preying upon his mind. 

The servants who had been left behind at Murasaki’s 
house were extremely embarrassed when Prince Hyébukys6 
came to fetch her. Genji had made them promise for a 
time at any rate to tell no one of what had happened and 
Shénagon had seemed to agree that this was best. Accord- 
ingly he could get nothing out of them save that Shonagon 
had taken the child away with her without saying anything 
about where she was going, The Prince felt completely 
baffled. Perhaps the grandmother had instilled into the 
nurse’s mind the idea that things would not go smoothly 
for the child at his palace, In that case the nurse with 
an excess of craftiness might, instead of openly saying that 
she feared the child would not be well treated under his 
roof, have thought it wiser to make off with her when 


t The pregnancy of Fujitsubo. | 


MURASAKI 179 


opportunity offered. He went home very depressed, asking 
them to let him know instantly if they had any news, 
a request which again embarrassed them. He also made 
enquiries of the priest at the temple in the hills, but could 
learn nothing. She had seemed to him to be a most lovable 
and delightful child; it was very diasppointing to lose 
sight of her in this manner. The princess his wife had long 
ago got over her dislike of the child’s mother and was 
indignant at the idea that she was not to be trusted to do 
her duty by the child properly. 

Gradually the servants from Murasaki’s house assembled 
at her new home. The little girls who had been brought 
to play with her were delighted with their new companion 
and they were soon all playing together very happily. 

When her prince was away or busy, on dreary evenings 
she would still sometimes long for her grandmother the 
nun and cry a little. But she never thought about her 
father whom she had never been used to see except at rare 
intervals, Now indeed she had ‘a new father’ of whom 
she was growing every day more fond. When he came back 
from anywhere she was the first to meet him and then 
wonderful games and conversations began, she sitting all 
the while on his lap without the least shyness or restraint. 
_A more charming companion could not have been imagined. 
It might be that when she grew older, she would not always 
be so trustful. New aspects of her character might come 
into play. If she suspected, for example, that he cared 
for someone else, she might resent it, and in such a case 
all sorts of unexpected things are apt to happen; but for 
the present she was a delightful plaything. Had she really 
been his daughter, convention would not have allowed 
him to go on much longer living with her on terms of such 
complete intimacy ; but in a case like this he felt that such 
scruples were not applicable. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER: 
? 

RY as he might he could not dispel the melancholy 

into which Yigao’s sudden death! had cast him, 

and though many months had gone by he longed for 
her passionately as ever. In other quarters where he had 
looked for affection, coldness vied with coldness and pride 
with pride. He longed to escape once more from the claims 
of these passionate and exacting natures, and renew the 
life of tender intimacy which for a while had given him so 
great a happiness. But alas, no second Yigao would he ever 
find. Despite his bitter experience he still fancied that 
one day he might at least discover some beautiful girl of 
humble origin whom he could meet without concealment, 
and he listened eagerly’ to any hint that was likely to put 
him upon a promising track. If the prospects seemed 
favourable he would follow up his enquiries by writing a 
discreet letter which, as he knew from experience, would 
seldom indeed meet with a wholly discouraging reply. 
Even those who seemed bent on showing by the prim 
stiffness of their answers that they placed virtue high above 
sensibility, and who at first appeared hardly conversant 
with the usages of polite society, would suddenly collapse 
into the wildest intimacy which would continue until their 
marriage with some commonplace husband cut short the 
correspondence. 


t The events of this chapter are synchronous with those of the last. 
180 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 181 


There were vacant moments when he thought of Utsusemi 
with regret. And there was her companion too ; some time 
or other there would surely be an opportunity of sending 
her a surprise message. If only he could see her again as 
he had seen her that night sitting by the chess-board in the 
dim lamplight. It was not indeed in his nature ever to 
forget anyone of whom he had once been fond. 

Among his old nurses there was one called Sayemon 
to whom, next after Koremitsu’s mother, he was most 
deeply attached. She had a daughter called Taifu no 
Myobu who was in service at the Palace. This girl was an 
illegitimate child of a certain member of the Imperial family 
who was then Vice-minister of the Board of War. She was 
a young person of very lively disposition and Genji often 
made use of her services. Her mother, Genji’s nurse, had 
afterwards married the governor of Echizen and had gone 
with him to his province, so the girl when she was not at 
the Palace lived chiefly at her father’s. 

She happened one day when she was talking with Genji 
to mention a certain princess, daughter of the late Prince 
Hitachi. This lady, she said, was born to the Prince when 
he was quite an old man and every care had been lavished 
upon her upbringing. Since his death she had lived alone 
and was very unhappy. Genji’s sympathy was aroused 
and he began to question Myébu about this unfortunate 
lady. ‘Idonot really know much either about her character 
or her appearance ’ said Myobu ; ‘ she is extremely seclusive 
in her habits. Sometimes I have talked to her a little in 
the evening, but always with a curtain between us. I believe 
her zithern is the only companion in whom she is willing to 
confide.’ ‘Of the Three Friends! one at least would in 
her case be unsuitable’ said Genji. ‘ But I should like to 
hear her play; her father was a great performer on this 


t Wine, zithern and song—in allusion to a poem by Po Chii-i. 


182 THE TALE OF GENJI 


instrument and it is unlikely that she has not inherited some 
of his skill.’ ‘ Oh, I am afraid she is not worth your coming 
to hear,’ said Mydbu. ‘ You are very discouraging,’ he 
answered, ‘ but all the same I shall hide there one of these 
nights when the full moon is behind the clouds and listen 
to her playing ; and you shall come with me.’ She was not 
best pleased ; but just then even upon the busy Palace a 
springtime quiet seemed to have settled, and being quite at 
leisure she consented to accompany him. Her father’s 
house was at some distance from the town and for 
convenience he sometimes lodged in Prince Hitachi’s palace. 
Myobo got on badly with her step-mother, and taking a 
fancy to the lonely princess’s quarters she kept a room 
there. 

It was indeed on the night after the full moon, in just 
such a veiled light as Genji had spoken of, that they visited 
the Hitachi palace. ‘I am afraid,’ said Mydbu, ‘that 
it is not a very good night for listening to music; sounds 
do not seem to carry very well.’ But he would not be thus 
put off. ‘Go to her room’ he said, ‘ and persuade her to 
play a few notes; it would be a pity if I went away without 
hearing her at all.’ Myodbu felt somewhat shy of leaving 
him like this in her own little private room. She found the 
princess sitting by the window, her shutters not yet closed 
for the night ; she was enjoying the scent of a blossoming 
plum-tree which stood in the garden just outside. It did 
indeed seem just the right moment. ‘I thought how lovely 
your zithern would sound on such a night as this,’ she said, 
“and could not resist coming to see you. I am always in 
such a hurry, going to and from the Palace, that do you 
know I have never had time to hear you play. It is such 
a pity.’ ‘ Music of this sort,’ she replied, ‘ gives no pleasure 
to those who have not studied it. What do they care for 
such matters who all day long run hither and thither in the 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 183 


City of a Hundred Towers?’ She sent for her zithern ; 
but her heart beat fast. What impression would her playing 
make upon this girl? Timidly she sounded a few notes. 
The effect was very agreeable. True, she was not a great 
performer; but the instrument was a particularly fine one 
and Genji found her playing by no means unpleasant to 
listen to. 

Living in this lonely and half-ruined palace after such 
an upbringing (full no doubt of antiquated formalities and 
restrictions) as her father was likely to have given her it 
would be strange indeed if her life did not for the most 
part consist of memories and regrets. This was just the sort 
of place which in an old tale would be chosen as the scene 
for the most romantic happenings. His imagination thus 
stirred, he thought of sending her a message. But perhaps 
she would think this rather sudden. For some reason he 
felt shy, and hesitated. 

“It seems to be clouding over,’ said the astute Myobu, 
who knew that Genji would carry away a far deeper 
impression if he heard no more for the present. ‘ Some- 
one was coming to see me’ she continued; ‘I must not 
keep him waiting. Perhaps some other time when I am 
not in such a hurry. ... Let me close your window for 
' you,’ and with that she rejoined Genji, giving the princess 
no encouragement to play any more. ‘She stopped so soon,’ 
he complained, ‘that it was hardly worth getting her to 
play at all. One had not time to catch the drift of what she 
was playing. Really it was a pity!’ That the princess 
was beautiful he made no doubt at all. ‘I should be very 
much obliged if you would arrange for me to hear her at 
closer quarters.’ But Myodbu, thinking that this would 
lead to disappointment, told him that the princess who led 
so hermit-like an existence and seemed always so depressed 


t Evidently a quotation. 


184 THE TALE OF GENJI 


and subdued would hardly welcome the suggestion that 
she should perform before a stranger. ‘Of course,’ said 
Genji, ‘ a thing of that kind could only be suggested between 
people who were on familiar terms or to someone of very 
different rank. This lady’s rank, as I am perfectly well 
aware, entitles her to be treated with every consideration, 
and I would not ask you to do more than hint at my desire.’ 
He had promised to meet someone else that night and 
carefully disguising himself he was preparing to depart 
when Myodbu said laughing ‘It amuses me sometimes to 
think how the Emperor deplores the too strict and domesti- 
cated life which he suffers you to lead. What would he 
think if he could see you disguising yourself like this ?’ 
Genji laughed. ‘I am afraid,’ he said as he left the room, 
“that you are not quite the right person to denounce me. 
Those who think such conduct reprehensible in a man must 
find it even less excusable in a girl.’ She remembered that 
Genji had often been obliged to reproach her for her reckless 
flirtations, and blushing made no reply. 

Still hoping to catch a glimpse of the zithern-player he 
crept softly towards her window. He was about to hide 
at a point where the bamboo-fence was somewhat broken 
down when he perceived that a man was already ensconced 
there. Who could it be? No doubt it was one of the 
princess’s lovers and he stepped back to conceal himself 
in the darkness. The stranger followed him and turned out 
to be no other than T6 no Chtj6. That evening they had 
left the Palace together, but when they parted Genji (Chiij6 
had noticed) did not either go in the direction of the Great 
Hall nor back to his own palace. This aroused Chijd’s 
curiosity and, despite the fact that he too had a secret 
appointment that night, he decided first to follow Genji 
and discover what was afoot. So riding upon a strange 
horse and wearing a hunting-cloak, he had got himself up 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 185 


altogether so villainously that he was able to follow Genji 
without being recognized upon the road. Seeing him 
enter so unexpected a place, Chij6 was trying to imagine 
what business his friend could possibly have in such a 
quarter when the music began and he secreted himself 
with a vague idea of waylaying Genji when he came out. 
But the prince, not knowing who the stranger was and 
frightened of being recognized, stole on tip-toe into the 
shadow. Chijo suddenly accosted him: ‘Though you 
shook me off so uncivilly, I thought it my duty to keep 
an eye on you’ he said, and recited the poem: ‘ Though 
together we left the great Palace hill, your setting-place 
you would not show me, Moon of the sixteenth night !’ 
Thus he remonstrated ; and Genji, though at first he had 
been somewhat put out by finding that he was not alone, 
when he recognized T6 no Chiij6 could not help being rather 
amused. ‘ This is indeed an unexpected attention on your 
part’ he said, and expressed his slight annoyance in the 
answering verse: ‘ Though wheresoever it shines men 
marvel at its light, who has before thought fit to follow the 
full moon to the hill whereon it sets ? ’ 

“It is most unsafe for you to go about like this,’ said 
Chajo. ‘I really mean it. You ought always to have a 
_ bodyguard; then you are all right whatever happens. I 
wish you would always let me come with you. I am afraid 
that these clandestine expeditions may one day get you 
into trouble,’ and he solemnly repeated the warning. What 
chiefly worried Genji was the thought that this might not 
be the first occasion upon which Chiijo had followed him ; 
but if it had been his habit to do so it was certainly very 
tactful of him never to have questioned Genji about Ytigao’s 
child.? 

Though each of them had an appointment elsewhere, they 

t Chijd’s child by Yigao. 


186 THE TALE OF GENJI 


agreed not to part. Both of them got into Genji’s carriage 
and the moon having vanished behind a cloud, beguiled the 
way to the Great Hall by playing a duet upon their flutes. 
They did not send for torch-bearers to see them in at the 
gates, but creeping in very quietly stole to a portico where 
they could not be seen and had their ordinary clothes brought 
to them there. Having changed, they entered the house 
merrily blowing their flutes as though they had just come 
back from the Palace. 

Chiijo’s father, who usually pretended not to hear them 
when they returned late at night, on this occasion brought 
out his flageolet, which was his favourite instrument, and 
began to play very agreeably. Aoi sent for her zithern 
and made all her ladies play on the instruments at which 
they excelled. Only Nakatsukasa, though she was known 
for her lute-playing, having thrown over T6 no Chij6 who 
had been her lover because of her infatuation for Genji 
with whom her sole intercourse was that she sometimes 
saw him casually when he visited the Great Hall,—only 
Nakatsukasa sat drooping listlessly ; for her passion had 
become known to Aoi’s mother and the rest, and they were 
being very unpleasant about it. She was thinking in her 
despair that perhaps it would be better if she went and lived 
in some place where she would never see Genji at all; but 
the step was hard to take and she was very unhappy. 

The young princes were thinking of the music they had 
heard earlier in the evening, of those romantic surroundings 
tinged with a peculiar and inexplicable beauty. Merely 
because it pleased him so to imagine her, T6 no Chij6 had 
already endowed the occupant of the lonely mansion with 
every charm. He had quite decided that Genji had been 
courting her for months or even years, and thought 
impatiently that he for his part, if like Genji he were violently 
in love with a lady of this kind, would have been willing to 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 187 


risk a few reproaches or even the loss of a little reputation. 
He could not however believe that his friend intended 
to let the matter rest as it was much longer and determined 
to amuse himself by a little rivalry. From that time 
onwards both of them sent letters to the lady, but neither 
ever received any answer. This both vexed and puzzled 
them. What could be the reason? Thinking that such 
images were suitable to a lady brought up in these rustic 
surroundings, in most of the poems which they sent her they 
alluded to delicate trees and flowers or other aspects of 
nature, hoping sooner or later to hit on some topic which 
would arouse her interest in their suit. Though she was of 
good birth and education, perhaps through being so long 
buried away in her vast mansion she had not any longer 
the wits to write a reply. And what indeed did it matter 
whether she answered or not, thought T6 no Chiij6, who none 
the less was somewhat. piqued. With his usual frankness 
he said to Genji: ‘I wonder whether you have had any 
answer. I must confess that as an experiment I too sent a 
mild hint, but without any success, so I have not repeated 
it.’ ‘So he too has been trying his hand,’ thought Genji 
smiling to himself. ‘No,’ he answered aloud, ‘ my letter 
did not need an answer, which was perhaps the reason that I 
did not receive one.’ From this enigmatic reply Chijo 
deduced that Genji had been in communication of some kind 
with the lady and he was slightly piqued by the fact that 
she had shown a preference between them. Genji’s deeper 
feelings were in no way involved, and though his vanity was 
a little wounded he would not have pursued the matter 
farther had he not known the persuasive power of Chijo’s 
style, and feared that even now she might overcome her 
. scruples and send him a reply. Chij6 would become 
insufferably cock-a-hoop if he got into his head the idea that 
the princess had transferred her affections from Genji to 


188 THE TALE OF GENJI 


himself. He must see what Mydbu could be persuaded to 
do. ‘I cannot understand,’ he said to her, ‘why the 
princess should refuse to take any notice of my letters. It 
is really very uncivil of her. I suppose she thinks I am 
a frivolous person who intends to amuse himself a little 
in her company and then disappear. It is a strangely 
false conception of my character. As you know, my affec- 
tions never alter, and if I have ever seemed to the world to 
be unfaithful it has always been because in reality my suit 
had met with some unexpected discouragement. But this 
lady is so placed that no opposition from parents or brothers 
can interrupt our friendship, and if she will but trust me 
she will find that her being alone in the world, so far from 
exposing her to callous treatment, makes her the more 
attractive.’ ‘Come,’ answered Mydébu, ‘it will never do 
for you to run away with the idea that you can treat this 
great lady as a pleasant wayside distraction; on the con- 
trary she is extremely difficult of access and her rank has 
accustomed her to be treated with deference and ceremony.’ 
So spoke Myobu, in accordance indeed with her own experi- 
ence of the princess. ‘She has evidently no desire to be 
thought clever or dashing’ said Genji; ‘for some reason 
I imagine her as very gentle and forgiving.’ He was thinking 
of Yiigao when he said this. 

Soon after this he fell sick of his fever and after that was 
occupied by a matter of great secrecy ; so that spring and 
summer had both passed away before he could again turn 
his attention to the lonely lady. But in the autumn came 
a time of quiet meditation and reflexion. Again the sound 
of the cloth-beaters’ mallets reached his ears, tormenting 
him with memories and longings. He wrote many letters 
to the zithern-player, but with no more success than before. 
Her churlishness exasperated him. More than ever he was 
determined not to give in, and sending for Mydbu he scolded 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 189 


her for having been of so little assistance to him. ‘ What 
can be going on in the princess’s mind ?’ he said; ‘such 
strange behaviour I have never met with before.’ If he 
was piqued and surprised, Mydbu for her part was vexed 
that the affair had gone so badly. ‘No one can say that 
you have done anything so very eccentric or indiscreet, 
and I do not think she feels so. If she does not answer your 
letters it is only part of her general unwillingness to face the 
outer world.’ ‘ But such a way of behaving is positively 
barbarous,’ said Genji; ‘if she were a girl in her ’teens 
and under the care of parents or guardians, such timidity 
might be pardoned; but in an independent woman it is 
inconceivable. I would never have written had I not taken 
it for granted that she had some experience of the world. 
I was merely hoping that I had found someone who in 
moments of idleness or depression would respond to me 
sympathetically. I did not address her in the language of 
gallantry, but only begged for permission sometimes to 
converse with her in that strange and lonely dwelling-place. 
But since she seems unable to understand what it is I am 
asking of her, we must see what can be done without waiting 
for her permission. If you will help me, you may be sure 
I shall not disgrace you in any way.’ 

Myobu had once been in the habit of describing to him 
the appearance of people whom she had chanced to meet 
and he always listened to such accounts with insatiable 
interest and curiosity ; but for a long while he had paid no 
attention to her reports. Now for no reason at all the mere 
mention of the princess’s existence had aroused in him a 
fever of excitement and activity. It was all very unaccount- 
able. Probably he would find the poor lady extremely 
unattractive when he saw her and she would be doing 
her a very poor service in effecting the introduction ; 
but to give Genji no help in a matter to which he 


190 THE TALE OF GENJI 


evidently attached so much importance, would seem very 
ill-natured. 

Even in Prince Hitachi’s life-time visitors to this stiff, 
old-fashioned establishment had been very rare, and now 
no foot at all ever made its way through the thickets which 
were closing in around the house. It may be imagined then 
what the visit of so celebrated a person as Genji would 
have meant to the ladies-in-waiting and lesser persons of 
the household and with what urgency they begged their 
mistress to send a favourable reply. But the same desperate 
shyness still possessed her and Genji’s letters she would not 
even read. Hearing this Mydbu determined to submit 
Genji’s request to her at some suitable moment when she 
and the princess were carrying on one of their usual uneasy 
conversations, with the princess’s screen-of-honour planted 
between them. ‘If she seems displeased,’ thought Mydbu, 
‘I will positively have nothing more to do with the matter ; 
but if she receives him and some sort of an affair starts 
between them, there is fortunately no one connected with her 
to scold me or get me into trouble.’ As the result of these 
and other reflections, being quite at home in matters of this 
kind, she sensibly decided to say nothing about the business 
to anybody, not even to her father. 

Late one night, soon after the twentieth day of the eighth 
month, the princess sat waiting for the moon torise. Though 
the star-light shone clear and lovely the moaning of the wind 
in the pine-tree branches oppressed her with its melancholy, 
and growing weary of waiting she was with many tears and 
sighs recounting to Myobu stories of bygone men and days. 

Now was the time to convey Genji’s message, thought 
Myobu. She sent for him, and secretly as before he crept 
up to the palace. The moon was just rising. He stood 
where the neglected bamboo-hedge grew somewhat sparsely 
and watched. Persuaded by Mydbu the princess was already 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 191 


at her zithern. So far as he could hear it at this distance, 
he did not find the music displeasing; but Mydbu 
in her anxiety and confusion thought the tune very dull 
and wished it would occur to the princess to play something 
rather more up-to-date. The place where Genji was waiting 
was well screened from view and he had no difficulty in 
creeping unobserved into the house. Here he called for 
Myobu, who pretending that the visit was a complete surprise 
to her said to the princess: ‘I am so sorry, here is Prince 
Genji come to see me. I am always getting into trouble 
with him for failing to secure him your favour. I have 
really done my best, but you do not make it possible for me 
to give him any encouragement, so now I imagine he has 
come to deal with the matter for himself. What am I to 
say to him? I can answer for it that he will do nothing 
violent or rash. I think that considering all the trouble 
he has taken you might at least tell him that you will 
speak to him through a screen or curtain.’ The idea filled 
the princess with consternation. ‘I should not know 
what to say to him,’ she wailed and as she said the words 
bolted towards the far side of the room with a bashfulness 
so infantile that Myobu could not help laughing. ‘ Indeed, 
Madam,’ she said, ‘it is childish of you to take the matter 
to heart in this way. If you were an ordinary young lady 
under the eye of stern parents and brothers, one could under- 
stand it ; but for a person in your position to go on for ever 
being afraid to face the world is fantastic.” So Mydbu 
admonished her and the princess, who could never think of 
any argument against doing what she was told to do, said 
at last: ‘ If I have only to listen and need not say anything 
he may speak to me from behind the lattice-door, so long 
asitis welllocked.’ ‘ I cannot ask him to sit on the servant's 
bench,’ said Mydbu. ‘ You really need not be afraid that 
he will do anything violent or sudden.’ Thus persuaded, 


192 THE TALE OF GENJI 


the princess went to a hatch which communicated between 
the women’s quarters and the strangers’ dais and firmly 
locking it with her own hand stuffed a mattress against it 
to make sure that no chink was left unstopped. She was 
in such a terrible state of confusion that she had not the 
least idea what she should say to her visitor, if she had to 
speak to him, and had agreed to listen to him only because 
Myobu told her that she ought to. 

Several elderly serving-women of the wet-nurse type had 
been lying half-asleep in the inner room since dusk. There 
were however one or two younger maids who had heard a 
great deal about this Prince Genji and were ready to fall 
in love with him at a moment’s notice. They now brought 
out their lady’s handsomest dress and persuaded her to let 
them put her a little to rights ; but she displayed no interest 
in these preparations. Mydébu meanwhile was thinking how 
well Genji looked in the picturesque disguise which he had 
elaborated for use on these night excursions and wished it 
were being employed in some quarter where it was more 
likely to be appreciated. Her only consolation was that so 
mild a lady was not likely to make inordinate demands 
upon him or pester him with jealousies and exactions. On 
the other hand, she was rather worried about the princess. 
‘What’ thought Myobu, ‘if she should fall in love with 
him and her heart be broken merely because I was frightened 
of getting scolded ? ’ 

Remembering her rank and upbringing, he was far from 
expecting her to behave with the lively pertness of an 
up-to-date miss. She would be langorous; yes, langorous 
and passionate. When, half-pushed by Mydébu, the princess 
at last took her stand near the partition where she was to 
converse with her visitor, a delicious scent of sandal-wood 1 
invaded his nostrils, and this piece of coquetry at once raised 


t Used to scent clothes with; 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 198 


his hopes. He began to tell her with great earnestness and 
eloquence how for almost a year she had continually occupied 
his thoughts. But not a word did she answer ; talking to 
her was no better than writing! Irritated beyond measure 
he recited the verse: ‘If with a Vow of Silence thus ten 
times and again my combat I renew, ’tis that against me 
at least no sentence of muteness has been passed.’ ‘ Speak 
at least one word of dismissal,’ he continued ; ‘ do not leave 
me in this bewilderment.’ There was among her ladies one 
called Jiji, the daughter of her old nurse. Being a girl of 
great liveliness and intelligence she could not bear to see 
her mistress cutting such a figure as this and stepping to her 
side she answered with the poem: ‘ The bell? had sounded 
and for a moment silence was imposed upon my lips. To 
have kept you waiting grieves me, and there let the matter 
rest.’ She said the words in such a way that Genji was 
completely taken in and thought it was the princess who had 
thus readily answered his poem. He had not expected such 
smartness from an aristocratic lady of the old school; but 
the surprise was agreeable and he answered: ‘ Madam, 
you have won the day,’ adding the verse: ‘ Though well 
I know that thoughts unspoken count more than thoughts 
expressed, yet dumb-crambo is not a cheering game to play.’ 

He went on to speak of one trifle or another as it occurred 
to him, doing his very best to entertain her; but it was no 
use. Thinking at last that silence might after all in this 
strange creature be merely a sign of deep emotion he could 
no longer restrain his curiosity and, easily pushing back the 
bolted door, entered the room. Mydbu, seeing with con- 
sternation that he had falsified all her assurances, thought 
it better to know nothing of what followed and without 
turning her head rushed away to her own apartments. 

t The bell which the Zen-master strikes when it is time for his pupils 
to fall into silent meditation. 


13 


194 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Jiji and the other ladies-in-waiting had heard so much 
about Genji and were so anxious to catch sight of him that 
they were more than ready to forgive his uncivil intrusion. 
Their only fear was that their mistress would be at a loss how 
to deal with so unexpected a situation. He did indeed find 
her in the last extremity of bashfulness and embarrassment, 
but under the circumstances that, thought Genji, was 
natural. Much was to be explained by the strict seclusion 
in which she had been brought up. He must be patient with 
Herisie ts 

As his eyes grew used to the dim light he began to see 
that she was not at all beautiful. Had she then not one 
quality at all to justify all these hopes and schemes? 
Apparently not one. It was late. What was the use of 
staying ? Bitterly disappointed he left the house. Mydodbu, 
intensely curious to know what would happen, had lain 
awake listening. She wanted however to keep up the 
pretence that she had not witnessed Genji’s intrusion and 
though she plainly heard him leaving the house she did not 
go to see him off or utter a sound of any kind. Stealing away 
as quietly as possible he returned to the Nij6-in and lay down 
upon his bed. This time at least he thought he was on the 
right path. What a disillusionment! And the worst of 
it was that she was a princess, a great lady. Whatamess he 
was in! So he lay thinking, when To no Chijo entered the 
room. ‘ How late you are!’ hecried; ‘I can easily guess 
the reason.’ Genji rose: ‘I was so comfortable sleeping 
here all alone that I overslept myself,’ he said. ‘ Have you 
come here from the Palace?’ ‘ Yes,’ said Chtijé, ‘ I was on 
my way home. I heard yesterday that to-day they are 
choosing the dancers and musicians for the celebrations of 
the Emperor’s visit to the Suzaku-in and I am going home 
to tell my father of this. I will look in here on my way 
back.’ Seeing that Chtij6 was in a hurry Genji said that he 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 195 


would go with him to the Great Hall. He sent at once for 
his breakfast, bidding them also serve the guest. Two 
carriages were drawn up waiting for them, but they both 
got into the same one. ‘ You still seem very sleepy,’ said 
Chij6 in an aggrieved tone; ‘I am sure you have been 
doing something interesting that you do not want to tell me 
about.’ ’ 

That day he had a number of important duties to perform 
and was hard at work in the Palace till nightfall. It did not 
occur to him till a very late hour that he ought at least to 
send the customary letter. It wasraining. Mydbu had only 
the day before reproached him for using the princess’s 
palace as a ‘ wayside refuge.” To-day however he had no 
inclination whatever to halt there. 

When hour after hour went by and still no letter came 
Myodbu began to feel very sorry for the princess whom she 
imagined to be suffering acutely from Genji’s incivility. 
But in reality the poor lady was still far too occupied with 
shame and horror at what had happened the night before to 
think of anything else, and when late in the evening Genji’s 
note at last arrived she could not understand in the least what 
itmeant. It began with the poem : ‘ Scarce had the evening 
mist lifted and revealed the prospect to my sight when the 
night rain closed gloomily about me.’ ‘I shall watch with 
impatience for a sign that the clouds are breaking,’ the letter 
continued. The ladies of the household at once saw with 
consternation the meaning of this note : Genji did not intend 
ever tocomeagain. But they were all agreed that an answer 
must be sent, and their mistress was for the time being in 
far too overwrought a condition to put brush to paper ; 
so Jiji (pointing out that it was late and there was no 
_ time to be lost) again came to the rescue: ‘ Give a thought 
to the country folk who wait for moonlight on this cloudy 
night, though, while they gaze, so different their thoughts 


196 THE TALE OF GENJI 


from yours!’ This she dictated to her mistress who, under 
the joint direction of all her ladies, wrote it upon a piece of 
paper which had once been purple but was now faded and 
shabby. Her writing was coarse and stiff, very mediocre 
in style, the upward and downward strokes being of the same 
thickness. Genji laid it aside scarcely glancing at it; but 
he was very much worried by the situation. How should 
he avoid hurting her feelings ? Such an affair was certain to 
get him into trouble of some kind. What was he to do? 
He made up his mind that at all costs he must go on seeing 
her. Meanwhile, knowing nothing of this decision, the poor 
lady was very unhappy. 

That night his father-in-law called for him on the way 
back from the Palace and carried him off to the Great Hall. 

Here in preparation for the coming festival all the young 
princes were gathered together, and during the days which 
followed everyone was busy practising the songs or dances 
which had been assigned to him. Never had the Great Hall 
resounded with such a continual flow of music. The recorder 
and the big flute were all the while in full blast ; and even the 
big drum was rolled out on to the verandah, the younger 
princes amusing themselves by experimenting upon it. 
Genji was so busy that he had barely time to pay an occa- 
sional surreptitious visit even to his dearest friends, and 
the autumn passed without his returning to the Hitachi 
Palace. The princess could not make it out. 

Just at the time when the music-practices were at their 
height Myébu came tosee him. Her account of the princess’s 
condition was very distressing. ‘It is sad to witness day by 
day as I do how the poor lady suffers from your unkind 
treatment,’ she said and almost wept as she told him about 
it. He was doubly embarrassed. What must Mydbu be 
thinking of him since she found out that he had so recklessly 
falsified all the assurances of good behaviour that she had 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 197 


made on his account? And then the princess herself. . . . 
He could imagine what a pathetic figure she must be, dumbly 
buried in her own despondent thoughts and questionings. 
‘Please make it clear to her’ he said, ‘ that I have been 
extremely busy; that is really the sole reason that I have 
not visited her.’ But he added with a sigh ‘I hope soon 
to have a chance of teaching her not to be quite so stiff and 
shy.’ He smiled as he said it, and because he was so young 
and charming Mydbu somehow felt that despite her indigna- 
tion she must smile too. At his age it was inevitable that 
he should cause a certain amount of suffering. Suddenly 
it seemed to her perfectly right that he should do as he felt 
inclined without thinking much about the consequences. 
When the busy festival time was over he did indeed pay 
several visits to the Hitachi Palace, but then followed his 
adoption of little Murasaki whose ways so entranced him that 
he became very irregular even in his visits to the Sixth 
Ward ;* still less had he any inclination, though he felt as 
sorry for the princess as ever, to visit that desolate palace. 
For a long while he had no desire to probe the secret of her 
bashfulness, to drive her into the light of day. But at last 
the idea occurred to him that he had perhaps all the while 
been mistaken. It was only a vague impression gathered 
in a room so dark that one could hardly see one’s hand in 
front of one’s face. If only he could persuade her to let 
him see her properly ? But she seemed frightened to sub- 
mit herself to the ordeal of daylight. Accordingly one night 
when he knew that he should catch her household quite at 
its ease he crept in unobserved and peeped through a gap 
in the door of the women’s apartments. The princess 
herself was not visible. There was a very dilapidated screen- 
of-honour at the end of the room, but it looked as if it had 
not been moved from where it stood for years and years. 


t To Lady Rokujé. 


198 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Four or five elderly gentlewomen were in the room. They 
were preparing their mistress’s supper in Chinese vessels 
which looked like the famous ‘ royal blue’ ware,? but they 
were much damaged and the food which had been provided 
seemed quite unworthy of these precious dishes. The old 
ladies soon retired, presumably to have their own supper. 
In a closet opening out of the main road he could see a very 
chilly-looking lady in an incredibly smoke-stained white 
dress and dirty apron tied at the waist. Despite this shabbi- 
ness, her hair was done over a comb in the manner of Court 
servants in ancient days when they waited at their master’s 
table, though it hung down untidily. He had sometimes 
seen figures such as this haunting the housekeeper’s rooms 
in the Palace, but he had no idea that they could still 
actually be seen waiting upon a living person! ‘O dear, 
O dear,’ cried the lady in the apron, ‘ what a cold winter 
we are having! It was not worth living so long only to meet 
times like these,’ and she shed a tear. ‘If only things had 
but gone on as they were in the old Prince’s time!’ she 
moaned. ‘What a change! No discipline, no authority. 
To think that I should have lived to see such days!’ and 
she quivered with horror like one who ‘ were he a bird would 
take wing and fly away.’? She went on to pour out such 
a pitiful tale of things gone awry that Genji could bear 
it no longer, and pretending that he had just arrived tapped 
at the partition-door. With many exclamations of surprise 
the old lady brought a candle and let himin. Unfortunately 
_ Jijtii had been chosen with other young persons to wait upon 
the Vestal Virgin and was not at home. Her absence made 
the house seem more rustic and old-fashioned than ever, 
and its oddity struck him even more forcibly than before. 

The melancholy snow was now falling faster and faster. 


1 Pi-sé. See Hetherington, Early Ceramic Wares of China, pp. 71-73. 
* Manyoshu, 893. 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 199 


Dark clouds hung in the sky, the wind blew fierce and wild. 
The big lamp had burnt out and it seemed to be no one’s 
business to light it. He remembered the terrible night upon 
which Yigao had been bewitched. The house indeed was 
almost as dilapidated. But it was not quite so large and was 
(to Genji’s comfort) at least to some small degree inhabited. 
Nevertheless it was a depressing place to spend the night 
atin such weather as this. Yet the snow-storm had a beauty 
and fascination of its own and it was tiresome that the lady 
whom he had come to visit was far too stiff and awkward 
to join him in appreciating its wildness. The dawn was 
just breaking and lifting one of the shutters with his own 
hand, he looked out at the snow-covered flower-beds. 
Beyond them stretched great fields of snow untrodden by 
any foot. The sight was very strange and lovely, and 
moved by the thought that he must soon leave it: ‘Come 
and look how beautiful it is out of doors,’ he cried to the 
princess who was in an inner room. ‘It is unkind of you 
always to treat me as though I were a stranger.’ Although 
it was still dark the light of the snow enabled the ancient 
gentlewomen who had now returned to the room to see the 
freshness and beauty of Genji’s face. Gazing at him with 
undisguised wonder and delight, they cried out to their 
mistress: “‘ Yes, madam, indeed you must come. You are 
not behaving as you should. A young lady should be all 
kindness and pretty ways.’ Thus admonished, the princess 
who when told what to do could never think of any reasons 
for not doing it, giving her costume a touch here and there 
reluctantly crept into the front room. Genji pretended to 
be still looking out of the window, but presently he managed 
to glance back into the room. His first impression was that 
her manner, had it been a little less diffident, would have 
been extremely pleasing. What an absurd mistake he had 
made. She was certainly very tall as was shown by the 


200 THE TALE OF GENJI 


length of her back when she took her seat; he could 
hardly believe that such a back could belong to a woman. 
A moment afterwards he suddenly became aware of her 
main defect. It was her nose. He could not help looking 
at it. It reminded him of the trunk of Samantabhadra’s ! 
steed! Not only was it amazingly prominent, but (strangest 
of all) the tip which drooped downwards a little was tinged 
with pink, contrasting in the oddest manner with the rest 
of her complexion which was of a whiteness that would 
have put snow to shame. Her forehead was unusually high, 
so that altogether (though this was partly concealed by the 
forward tilt of her head) her face must be hugely long. 
She was very thin, her bones showing in the most painful 
manner, particularly her shoulder-bones which jutted out 
pitiably above her dress. He was sorry now that he had 
exacted from her this distressing exhibition, but so extra- 
ordinary a spectacle did she provide that he could not help 
continuing to gaze upon her. In one point at least she 
yielded nothing to the greatest beauties of the Capital. Her 
hair was magnificent ; she was wearing it loose and it hung 
a foot or more below the skirt of her gown. A complete 
description of people’s costumes is apt to be tedious, but as 
in stories the first thing that is said about the characters is 
invariably what they wore, I shall once in a way attempt 
such a description. Over a terribly faded bodice of imperial 
purple she wore a gown of which the purple had turned 
definitely black with age. Her mantle was of sable-skins 
heavily perfumed with scent. Such a garment as this 
mantle was considered very smart several generations ago, 
but it struck him as the most extraordinary costume for a 
comparatively young girl. However as a matter of fact 
she looked as though without this monstrous wrapping she 


t The Bodhisattva Samantabhadra rides on a white elephant with a 
red trunk. 


— 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 201 


would perish with cold and he could not help feeling sorry 
for her. As usual she seemed quite devoid of conversation 
and her silence ended by depriving Genji also of the power 
of speech. He felt however that he must try again to conquer 
her religious muteness and began making a string of casual 
remarks. Overcome with embarrassment she hid her face 
with her sleeve. This attitude, together with her costume, 
reminded him so forcibly of queer pompous old officials 
whom he had sometimes seen walking at funeral pace in 
state processions, hugging their emblems of office to their 
breasts, that he could not help laughing. This he felt to be 
very rude. Really he was very sorry for her and longing to 
put a quick end to her embarrassment he rose to go. ‘ Till 
I began to look after you there was no one in whom you 
could possibly have confided. But henceforward I think 
you must make up your mind to be frank with me and tell 
me all your secrets. Your stern aloofness is very painful 
to me,’ and he recited the verse: ‘ Already the icicle that 
hangs from the eaves is melting in the rays of the morning 
sun. How comes it that these drippings to new ice should 
turn?’ At this she tittered slightly. Finding her inability 
to express herself quite unendurable he left the house. Even 
in the dim light of early morning he noticed that the court- 
yard gate at which his carriage awaited him was shaky on 
its posts and much askew; daylight, he was sure, would 
have revealed many other signs of dilapidation and neglect. 
In all the desolate landscape which stretched monotonously 
before him under the bleak light of dawn only the thick 
mantle of snow which covered the pine-trees gave a note of 
comfort and almost of warmth. 

Surely it was such a place as this, sombre as a little village 
in the hills, that his friends had thought of on that rainy 
night when they had spoken of the gate ‘ deep buried in 
green thickets,’ If only there were really hidden behind 


202 THE TALE OF GENJI 


these walls some such exquisite creature as they had imagined. 
How patiently, how tenderly he would court her! He longed 
for some experience which would bring him respite from the 
anguish with which a certain hopeless and illicit passion 
was at that time tormenting him. Alas, no one could 
have been less likely to bring him the longed-for distraction 
than the owner of this romantic mansion. Yet the very 
fact that she had nothing to recommend her made it 
impossible for him to give her up, for it was certain that no 
one else would ever take the trouble to visit her. But why, 
why had it fallen to him of all people to become her intimate ? 
Had the spirit of the departed Prince Hitachi, unhappy at 
the girl’s friendless plight, chosen him out and led him to 
her ? 

At the side of the road he noticed a little orange-tree almost 
buried in snow. He ordered one of his attendants to uncover 
it. As though jealous of the attention that the man was 
paying to its neighbour a pine-tree near by shook its heavily 
laden branches, pouring great billows of snow over his 
sleeve. Delighted with the scene Genji suddenly longed for 
some companion with whom he might share this pleasure ; 
not necessarily someone who loved such things as he did, but 
one who at least responded to them in an ordinary way. 

The gate through which his carriage had to pass in order 
to leave the grounds was still locked. When at last the man 
who kept the key had been discovered he turned out to be 
immensely old and feeble. With him was a big, awkward 
girl who seemed to be his daughter or grand-daughter. Her 
dress looked very grimy in contrast with the new snow 
amid which she was standing. She seemed to be suffering 
very much from the cold, for she was hugging a little brazier 
of some kind with a stick or two of charcoal burning none 
too brightly in it. The old man had not the strength to 
push back the door, and the girl was dragging at it as well. 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 203 


Taking pity on them one of Genji’s servants went to their 
assistance and quickly opened it. Genji remembered the 
poem in which Po Chii-i describes the sufferings of villagers 
in wintry weather and he murmured the lines ‘ The little 
children run naked in the cold; the aged shiver for lack of 
winter clothes.’ All at once he remembered the chilly 
appearance which that unhappy bloom had given to the 
princess’s face and he could not help smiling. If ever he 
were able to show her to T6 no Chij6, what strange com- 
parison, he wondered, would Chij6 use concerning it? 
He remembered how Chiijé had followed him on the first 
occasion. Had he continued to do so? Perhaps even at 
this minute he was under observation. The thought 
irritated him. 

Had her defects been less striking he could not possibly 
have continued these distressing visits. But since he had 
actually seen her in all her tragic uncouthness pity gained 
the upper hand, and henceforward he kept in constant touch 
with her and showed her every kindness. In the hope that 
she would abandon her sables he sent her presents of silk, 
satin and quilted stuffs. He also sent thick cloth such as 
old people wear, that the old man at the gate might be more 
comfortably dressed. Indeed he sent presents to everyone 
on the estate from the highest to the lowest. She did not 
seem to have any objection to receiving these donations, 
which under the circumstances was very convenient as it 
enabled him for the most part to limit their very singular 
friendship to good offices of this kind. 

Utsusemi too, he remembered, had seemed to him far 
from handsome when he had peeped at her on the evening 
of her sudden flight. But she at least knew how to behave 
and that saved her plainness from being obtrusive. It was 
hard to believe that the princess belonged to a class so far 

above that of Utsusemi. It only showed how little these 


7) // Ly [_~_) if (t uf y 101 yi h Ce hye Cop) / 


ip : 
nave 
204 THE TALE OF GENJI 


things have to do with birth or station. For in idle moments 
he still regretted-the_loss_of Utsusemi and it it t rankled in him 
yet that he had in the end allowed her r unyielding persistency 
to win the day. RACERS 25 

And so the year drew to its close. One day when he was 
at his apartments in the Emperor’s Palace, Myobu came 
to see him. He liked to have her to do his hair and do 
small commissions for him. He was not in the least in love 
with her ; but they got on very well together and he found 
her conversation so amusing that even when she had no duty 
to perform at the Palace he encouraged her to come and 
see him whenever she had any news. ‘Something so 
absurd has happened’ she said, ‘ that I can hardly bring 
myself to tell you about it... ,’ and she paused smiling. 
“I can hardly think,’ answered Genji, ‘ that there can be 
anything which you are frightened of telling to me.’ ‘If 
it were connected with my own affairs,’ she said, ‘ you 
know quite well that I should tell you at once. But this is 
something quite different. I really find it very hard to 
talk about.’ For a long while he could get nothing out of 
her, and only after he had scolded her for making so unneces- 
sary a fuss she at last handed him a letter. It was from 
the princess. ‘ But this,’ said Genji taking it, ‘is the last 
thing in the world that you could have any reason to hide 
from me.’ She watched with interest while he read it. It 
was written on thick paper drenched with a strong perfume ; 
the characters were bold and firm. With it was a poem: 
“Because of your hard heart, your hard heart only, the 
sleeves of this my Chinese dress are drenched with tears.’ 
The poem must, he thought, refer to something not con- 
tained in the letter. 

He was considering what this could be, when his eye 
fell on a clumsy, old-fashioned clothes-box wrapped in a 
painted canvas cover. ‘ Now’ said Mydbu, ‘ perhaps you 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 205 


understand why I was feeling rather uncomfortable. You 
may not believe it, but the princess means you to wear 
this jacket on New Year’s Day. I am afraid I cannot take 
it back to her; that would be too unkind. But if you like 
I will keep it for you and no one else shall see it. Only 
please, since it was to you that she sent, just have one look 
atit beforeit goesaway.’ ‘ But I should hate it to go away,’ 
said Genji; ‘I think it was so kind of her to send it.’ It 
was difficult to know what to say. Her poem was indeed 
the most unpleasant jangle of syllables that he had ever 
encountered. He now realized that the other poems must 
have been dictated to her, perhaps by Jijii or one of the other 
ladies. And Jiji too it must surely be who held the princess’s 
brush and acted as writing-master. When he considered 
what her utmost poetic endeavour would be likely to produce 
he realized that these absurd verses were probably her 
“masterpiece and should be prized accordingly. He began 
to examine the parcel ; Myobu blushed while she watched 
him. It was a plain, old-fashioned, buff-coloured jacket 
of finely woven material, but apparently not particularly 
well cut or stitched. It was indeed a strange present, and 
spreading out her letter he wrote something carelessly in 
the margin. When Mydbu looked over his shoulder she saw 
that he had written the verse: ‘ How comes it that with 
my sleeve I brushed this saffron-flower ! that has no loveliness _ 
either of shape or hue ? ’ 

What, wondered Myodbu, could be the meaning of this 
outburst against a flower? At last turning over in her mind 
the various occasions when Genji had visited the princess 
she remembered something 2 which she had herself noticed 
one moonlit night, and though she felt the joke was rather 
unkind, she could not help being amused. With practised 


t Suyetsumuhana, by which name, the princess is subsequently alluded 
to in the story. 
2 I.e. the redness of the princess’s nose. 


206 THE TALE OF GENJI 


ease she threw out a verse in which she warned him that 
in the eyes of a censorious world even this half-whimsical 
courtship might fatally damage his good name. Her 
impromptu poem was certainly faulty ; but Genji reflected 
that if the poor princess had even Mydbu’s very ordinary 
degree of alertness it would make things much easier ; 
and it was quite true that to tamper with a lady of such 
high rank was not very safe. 

At this point visitors began to arrive. ‘ Please put this 
somewhere out of sight,’ said Genji pointing to the jacket ; 
‘ could one have believed that it was possible to be presented 
with such an object ?’ and he groaned. ‘ Oh why ever did 
I show it to him?’ thought Mydbu. ‘ The only result is 
that now he will be angry with me as well as with the 
princess,’ and in very low spirits she slipped out of his apart- 
ments. 

Next day she was in attendance upon the Emperor and 
while she was waiting with other gentlewomen in the ladies’ 
common-room Genji came up saying: ‘Here you are. 
The answer to yesterday’s letter. I am afraid it is rather 
far-fetched,’ and he flung a note to her. The curiosity of 
the other gentlewomen was violently aroused. Genji left 
the room humming ‘The Lady of Mikasa Hill,’! which 
naturally amused Mydbu very much. The other ladies 
wanted to know why the prince was laughing to himself. 
Was there some joke ...? ‘Oh, no,’ said Mydbu; ‘I 
think it was only that he had noticed someone whose nose 
was a little red with the morning cold. The song he hummed 
was surely very appropriate.’ ‘I think it was very silly,’ 
said one of the ladies. ‘ There is no one here to-day with a 
red nose. He must be thinking of Lady Sakon or Higo 
no Uneme.’ They were completely mystified. When 


t A popular song about a lady who suffered from the same defect as 
the princess. 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 207 


My6dbu presented Genji’s reply, the ladies of the Hitachi 
Palace gathered round her to admire it. It was written 
negligently on plain white paper but was none the less very 
elegant. ‘Does your gift of a garment mean that you 
wish a greater distance than ever to be kept between us ?’! 

On the evening of the last day of the year he sent back 
the box which had contained his jacket, putting into it a 
court dress which had formerly been presented to him, a 
dress of woven stuff dyed grape-colour and various stuffs 
of yellow-rose colour and the like. The box was brought by 
Myobu. The princess’s ancient gentlewomen realized that 
Genji did not approve of their mistress’s taste in colours and 
wished to give her a lesson. ‘ Yes,’ they said grudgingly, 
‘that’s a fine deep red while its new, but just think how it 
will fade. And in Madam’s poem too, I am sure, there was 
much more good sense. In his answer he only tries to be 
smart.’ The princess shared their good opinion of her poem. 
It had cost her a great deal of effort and before she sent it 
she had been careful to copy it into her note-book. 

Then came the New Year’s Day celebrations; and this 
year there was also to be the New Year’s mumming, a band 
of young noblemen going round dancing and singing in 
various parts of the Palace. After the festival of the White 
Horse on the seventh day Genji left the Emperor’s presence 
at nightfall and went to his own apartments in the Palace 
as though intending to stay the night there. But later he 
adjourned to the Hitachi Palace which had on this occasion 
a less forbidding appearance than usual. Even the princess 
was rather more ordinary and amenable. He was hoping 
that like the season she too had begun anew, when he saw 
that sunlight was coming into the room. After hesitating 
for a while, he got up and went out into the frontroom. The 


t Genji’s poem is an allusion to a well-known uéa which runs: ‘ Must 
we who once would not allow even the thickness of a garment to part us 
be now far from each other for whole nights on end ? * 


208 THE TALE OF GENJI 


double doors at the end of the eastern wing were wide open, 
and the roof of the verandah having fallen in, the sunshine 
poured straight into the house. A little snow was still 
falling and its brightness made the morning light yet more 
exquisitely brilliant and sparkling. She watched a servant 
helping him into his cloak. She was lying half out of the 
bed, her head hanging a little downwards and her hair 
falling in great waves to the floor. Pleased with the sight 
he began to wonder whether she would not one day outgrow 
her plainness. He began to close the door of the women’s 
apartments, but suddenly feeling that he owed her amends 
for the harsh opinion of her appearance which he had formed 
before, he did not quite shut the door, but bringing a low 
stool towards it sat there putting his disordered head-dress 
to rights. One of the maids brought him an incredibly 
battered mirror-stand, Chinese combs, a box of toilet articles 
and other things. It amused him to discover that in this 
household of women a little male gear still survived, even in 
so decrepit a state. 

He noticed that the princess, who was now up and dressed, 
was looking quite fashionable. She was in fact wearing the 
clothes which he had sent her before the New Year, but he 
did not at first recognize them. He began however to have 
a vague idea that her mantle, with its rather conspicuous 
pattern, was very like one of the things he had given her, 
“I do hope,’ he said presently, ‘ that this year you will be 
a little more conversational. I await the day when you will 
unbend a little towards me more eagerly than the poet longs 
for the first nightingale. If only like the year that has 
changed you too would begin anew!’ Her face brightened. 
She had thought of a remark and trembling from head to 
foot with a tremendous effort she brought out the quotation 
‘When plovers chirp and all things grow anew.’ ‘ Splendid,’ 
said Genji, ‘ This is a sign that the new year has indeed 


THE SAFFRON-FLOWER 209 


begun ’ and smiling encouragingly at her he left the house, 
she following him with her eyes from the couch on which 
she lay. Her face as usual was half covered by her arm ; 
but the unfortunate flower still bloomed conspicuously. 
‘ Poor thing, she really 7s very ugly,’ thought Genji in despair. 

When he returned to the Nij6-in he found Murasaki 
waiting for him. She was growing up as handsome a girl 
as one could wish, and promised well for the future. She was 
wearing a plain close-fitting dress of cherry colour; above 
all, the unstudied grace and ease of her movements charmed 
and delighted him as he watched her come to meet him. 
In accordance with the wishes of her old-fashioned grand- 
mother her teeth were not blackened, but her eyebrows were 
delicately touched with stain. ‘Why, when I might be 
playing with a beautiful child, do I spend my time with an 
ugly woman ? ’ Genji kept on asking himself in bewilderment 
while they sat together playing with her dolls. Next she 
began to draw pictures and colour them. After she had 
painted all sorts of queer and amusing things, ‘ Now I am 
going to do a picture for you,’ said Genji and drawing a 
lady with very long hair he put a dab of red on her nose. 
Even in a picture, he thought pausing to look at the effect, 
it gave one a most uncomfortable feeling. He went and 
looked at himself in the mirror and as though dissatisfied 
with his own fresh complexion he suddenly put on his own 
nose a dab of red such as he had given to the lady in the 
picture. He looked at himself in the mirror. His handsome 
face had in an instant become ridiculous and repulsive. 
At first the child laughed. ‘ Should you go on liking me if 
I were always as ugly as this?’ he asked. Suddenly she 
began to be afraid that the paint would not come off. ‘Oh 
why did you do it?’ she cried. ‘How horrible!’ He 
pretended to rub it without effect. ‘No, he said ruefully, 
“it will not come off. What asad end to our game! I 

14 


210 THE TALE OF GENJI 


wonder what the Emperor will say when I go back to the 
Palace?’ He said it so seriously that she became very 
unhappy, and longing to cure him dipped a piece of thick soft 
paper in the water-jug which stood by his writing-things, 
and began scrubbing at his nose. ‘ Take care,’ he cried 
laughing, ‘ that you do not serve me as Heichi ! was treated 
by his lady. JI would rather have a red nose than a black 
one.” So they passed their time, making the prettiest 
couple. 

In the gentle spring sunshine the trees were already 
shimmering with a haze of new-grown buds. Among them 
it was the plum-trees that gave the surest promise, for 
already their blossoms were uncurling, like lips parted in a 
faint smile. Earliest of them all was a red plum that grew 
beside the covered steps. It was in full colour. ‘ Though 
fair the tree on which it blooms, this red flower fills me with 
a strange misgiving,’2 sang Genji with a deep sigh. 

We shall see in the next chapter what happened in the 
end to all these people. 


t He used to splash his cheeks with water from a little bottle in order 
that she might think he was weeping at her unkindness, She exposed 
this device by mixing ink with the water. 

2 The reference of course is to the princess. ‘ Though fair the tree’ 
refers to her high birth. 


CHAPTER VII 
THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 


"Tx imperial visit to the Red Sparrow Court was to 
take place on the tenth day of the Godless Month. 
It was to be a more magnificent sight this year than 
it had ever been before and the ladies of the Palace were 
very disappointed that they could not be present.: The 
Emperor too could not bear that Fujitsubo should miss the 
spectacle, and he decided to hold a grand rehearsal in the 
Palace. Prince Genji danced the ‘ Waves of the Blue Sea.’ 
T6 no Chijo was his partner; but though both in skill and 
beauty he far surpassed the common run of performers, yet 
beside Genji he seemed like a mountain fir growing beside 
a cherry-tree in bloom, There was a wonderful moment 
when the rays of the setting sun fell upon him and the music 
grew suddenly louder. Never had the onlookers seen feet 
tread so delicately nor head so exquisitely poised ; and in 
the song which follows the first movement of the dance his 
voice was sweet as that of Kalavinka 2 whose music is 
Buddha’s Law. So moving and beautiful was this dance that 
at the end of it the Emperor’s eyes were wet, and all the 
princes and great gentlemen wept aloud. When the song was 
over and, straightening his long dancer’s sleeves, he stood 
waiting for the music to begin again and at last the more 
lively tune of the second movement struck up,—then indeed, 


t They were not allowed to leave the palace. 
a The bird that sings in Paradise. 
211 


212 THE TALE OF GENJI 


with his flushed and eager face, he merited more than ever 
his name of Genji the Shining One. The Princess Kékiden ! 
did not at all like to see her step-son’s beauty arousing so 
much enthusiasm and she said sarcastically ‘ He is altogether 
too beautiful. Presently we shall have a god coming down 
from the sky to fetch him away.’ 2 Her young waiting-ladies 
noticed the spiteful tone in which the remark was made 
and felt somewhat embarrassed. As for Fujitsubo, she kept 
on telling herself that were it not for the guilty secret which 
was shared between them the dance she was now witnessing 
would be filling her with wonder and delight. As it was, 
she sat as though in a dream, hardly knowing what went 
on around her, 

Now she was back in her own room. The Emperor was 
with her. ‘At to-day’s rehearsal’ he said, ‘The ‘‘ Waves 
of the Blue Sea’”’ went perfectly.’ Then, noticing that she 
made no response, ‘ What did you think of it?’ ‘ Yes, 
it was very good,’ she managed to say at last. ‘ The partner 
did not seem to me bad either,’ he went on ; ‘ there is always 
something about the way a gentleman moves and uses his 
hands which distinguishes his dancing from that of profes- 
sionals. Some of our crack dancing-masters have certainly 
made very clever performers of their own children; but 
they never have the same freshness, the same charm as the 
young people of our class. They expended so much effort 
on the rehearsal that I am afraid the festival itself may seem 
a very poor affair. No doubt they took all this trouble 
because they knew that you were here at the rehearsal and 
would not see the real performance.’ 

Next morning she received a letter from Genji: ‘ What of 
the rehearsal ? How little the people who watched me knew 
of the turmoil that all the while was seething in my brain ! ’ 


t See above p. 19. 
2 In allusion to a boy-prince of seven years old whom the jealous gods 
carried off to the sky. See the Okagami. 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 213 


And to this he added the poem: ‘ When sick with love I yet 
sprang to my feet and capered with the rest, knew you 
what meant the fevered waving of my long dancing-sleeve ? ’ 
Next he enjoined secrecy and prudence upon her, and so 
his letter ended. Her answer showed that despite her agi- 
tation she had not been wholly insensible to what had 
fascinated all other eyes: ‘Though from far off a man of 
China waved his long dancing-sleeves, yet did his every 
motion fill my heart with wonder and delight.’ 

To receive such a letter from her was indeed a surprise. 
It charmed him that her knowledge should extend even to 
the Court customs of a land beyond the sea. Already. there 
was a regal note in her words. Yes, that was the end to 
which she was destined. Smiling to himself with pleasure 
he spread the letter out before him, grasping it tightly in 
both hands as a priest holds the holy book, and gazed at 
it for a long while. 

On the day of the festival the royal princes and all the 
great gentlemen of the Court were in attendance. Even the 
Heir Apparent went with the procession. After the music- 
boats had rowed round the lake dance upon dance was 
performed, both Korean and of the land beyond the sea. 
The whole valley resounded with the noise of music and 
drums. The Emperor insisted upon treating Genji’s per- 
formance at the rehearsal as a kind of miracle or religious 
portent, and ordered special services to be read in every 
temple. Most people thought this step quite reasonable ; 
but Princess Kékiden said crossly that she saw no necessity 
for it. The Ring! was by the Emperor’s order composed 
indifferently of commoners and noblemen chosen out of the 
whole realm for their skill and grace. The two Masters of 
Ceremony, Sayemon no Kami and Uyemon no Kami, were 


Those who stand in a circle round the dancers while the latter change 
their clothes. 


214 THE TALE OF GENJI 


in charge of the left and right wings of the orchestra. 
Dancing-masters and others were entrusted with the task 
of seeking out performers of unusual merit and training 
them for the festival in their own houses. When at last 
under the red leafage of tall autumn trees forty men stood 
circle-wise with their flutes and to the music that they made 
a strong wind from the hills sweeping the pine-woods added 
its fierce harmonies, while from amid a wreckage of whirling 
and scattered leaves the Dance of the Blue Waves suddenly 
broke out in all its glittering splendour,—a rapture seized 
the onlookers that was akin to fear. 

The maple-wreath that Genji wore had suffered in the wind 
and thinking that the few red leaves which clung to it had a 
desolate air the Minister of the Left * plucked a bunch of 
chrysanthemums from among those that grew before the 
Emperor’s seat and twined them in the dancer’s wreath. 

At sunset the sky clouded over and it looked like rain. 
But even the weather seemed conscious that such sights 
as this would not for a long while be seen again, and till all 
was over not a drop fell. His Exit Dance, crowned as he 
was with this unspeakably beautiful wreath of many 
coloured flowers, was even more astonishing than that won- 
derful moment on the day of the rehearsal and seemed to the 
thrilled onlookers like the vision of another world. Humble 
and ignorant folk sitting afar on tree-roots or beneath some 
rock, or half-buried in deep banks of fallen leaves—few were 
so hardened that they did not shed a tear. Next came the 
‘Autumn Wind’ danced by Lady Jékyéden’s son? who 
was stilla mere child. The remaining performances attracted 
little attention, for the audience had had its fill of wonders 
and felt that whatever followed could but spoil the recollec- 


tion of what had gone before. 
: 
t Reading ‘ Sadaijin,’ not ‘ Sadaishé.’ 
? Another illegitimate son of the Emperor; Genji’s step-brother. 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 215 


That night Genji was promoted to the First Class of the 
Third Rank and T6 no Chiij6 was promoted to intermediate 
standing between the First and Second Classes of the Fourth 
Rank. The gentlemen of the court were all promoted one 
rank. But though they celebrated their good fortune with 
the usual rejoicings they were well aware that they had only 
been dragged in Genji’s wake and wondered how it was 
that their destinies had come to be linked in this curious way 
with those of the prince who had brought them this 

unexpected piece of good fortune. 

Fujitsubo now retired to her own house and Genji, waiting 
' about for a chance of visiting her, was seldom at the Great 
Hall and was consequently in very ill odour there. It was 
soon after this that he brought the child Murasaki to live 
with him. Aoi heard a rumour of this, but it reached her 
merely in the form that someone was living with him at 
his palace and she did not know that it was a child. Under 
these circumstances it was quite natural that she should feel 
much aggrieved. But if only she had flown into an honest 
passion and abused him for it as most people would have 
done, he would have told her everything and put matters 
right. As it was, she only redoubled her icy aloofness and 
thus led him to seek those very distractions of which it was 
intended: as a rebuke. Not only was her beauty so flawless 
that it could not fail to win his admiration, but also the mere 
fact that he had known her since so long ago, before all the 
rest, made him feel towards her a tenderness of which she 
seemed quite unaware. He was convinced however that her 
_ nature was not at bottom narrow and vindictive, and this 
gave him some hope that she would one day relent. 

Meanwhile as he got to know little Murasaki better he 
became the more content both with her appearance and her 
character. She at least gave him her whole heart. For the 
present he did not intend to reveal her identity even to the 


216 THE TALE OF GENJI 


servants in his own palace. She continued to use the some- 
what outlying western wing which had now been put into 
excellent order, and here Genji constantly came to see her. 
He gave her all kinds of lessons, writing exercises for her to 
copy and treating her in every way as though she were a 
little daughter who had been brought up by foster-parents, 
but had now come to live with him. He chose her servants 
with great care and gave orders that they should do every- 
thing in their power to make her comfortable; but no one 
except Koremitsu knew who the child was or how she came 
to be living there. Nor had her father discovered what had 
become of her. 

The little girl still sometimes thought of the past and then 
she would feel for a while very lonely without her grand- 
mother. When Genji was there she forgot her sorrow ; but 
in the evening he was very seldom at home. She was 
sorry that he was so busy and when he hurried every evening 
to some strange place or other she missed him terribly ; 
but she was never angry with him. Sometimes for two or 
three days on end he would be at the Palace or the Great 
Hall and when he returned he would find her very tearful 
and depressed. Then he felt just as though he were 
neglecting some child of his own, whose mother had died and 
left it in his keeping, and for a while he grew uneasy about 
his night excursions. 

The priest was puzzled when he heard that Genji had 
taken Murasaki to live with him, but saw no harm in it 
and was delighted that she should be so well cared for. 
He was gratified too when Genji begged that the services 
in the dead nun’s memory should be celebrated with special 
pomp and magnificence. 

When he went to Fujitsubo’s palace, anxious to see for — 
himself whether she was keeping her health, he was met by 
a posse of waiting-women (Mydbus, Chiinagons, Nakatsu- 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 217 


kasas and the like) and Fujitsubo herself showed, to his 
great disappointment, no sign of appearing. They gave 
a good account of her, which somewhat allayed his anxiety, 
and had passed on to general gossip when it was announced 
that Prince Hyébuky6! had arrived. Genji at once went out 
to speak to him. This time Genji thought him extremely 
handsome and there was a softness, a caressing quality in 
his manner (Genji was watching him more closely than he 
knew) which was feminine enough to make his connection 
with Fujitsubo and Murasaki at once uppermost in the mind 
of his observer. It was, then, as the brother of the one and 
the father of the other that the new-comer at once created 
a feeling of intimacy, and they had a long conversation. 
Hydbuky6 could not fail to notice that Genji was suddenly 
treating him with an affection which he had never displayed 
before. He was naturally very much gratified, not realizing 
that Genji had now, in a sense, become his son-in-law. 
It was getting late and Hydbuky6 was about to join his 
sister in another room. It was with bitterness that Genji 
remembered how long ago the Emperor had brought her to 
play with him. In those days he ran in and out of her room 
just as he chose ; now he could not address her save in pre 
carious messages. She was as inaccessible, as remote as one 
person conceivably could be from another, and finding the 
situation intolerable, he said politely to Prince Hydbukys: 
‘I wish I saw you more often ; unless there is some special 
reason for seeing people, I am lazy about it. But if you 
ever felt inclined to send for me, I should be delighted .. .’ 
and he hurried away. 

Omydbu, the gentlewoman who had contrived Genji’s 
meeting with Fujitsubo, seeing her mistress relapse into a 
steady gloom and vexed at her belated caution was all the 
time doing her best to bring the lovers together again ; 


t Fujitsubo’s brother ; Murasaki’s father. 


218 THE TALE OF GENJI 


but days and months went by and still all her efforts were in 
vain; while they, poor souls, strove desperately to put 
away from them this love that was a perpetual disaster. 

At Genji’s palace Shénagon, the little girl’s nurse, finding 
herself in a world of unimagined luxuries and amenities, 
could only attribute this good fortune to the success of the 
late nun’s prayers. The Lord Buddha to whose protection 
the dying lady had so fervently recommended her grand- 
daughter had indeed made handsome provision for her. 
There were of course certain disadvantages. The haughtiness 
of Aoi was not only in itself to be feared, but 1t seemed to 
have the consequence of driving Prince Genji to seek distrac- 
tions right and left, which would be very unpleasant for the 
little princess so soon as she was old enough to realize it. 
Yet so strong a preference did he show for the child’s com- 
pany that Shonagon did not altogether lose heart. 

It being then three months since her grandmother died 
Murasaki came out of mourning at the end of the Godless 
Month. But it was thought proper since she was to be 
brought up as an orphan that she should still avoid 
patterned stuffs, and she wore a little tunic of plain red, 
brown or yellow, in which she nevertheless looked very 
smart and gay. 

He came to have a look at her before going off to the New 
Year’s Day reception at Court. ‘From to-day onwards 
you are a grown-up lady,’ he said, and as he stood smiling 
at her he looked so charming and friendly that she could 
not bear him to go, and hoping that he would stay and play 
with her a little while longer she got out her toys. There 
was a doll’s kitchen only three feet high but fitted out with 
all the proper utensils, and a whole collection of little houses 
which Genji had made for her. Now she had got them all 
spread out over the floor so that it was difficult to move 
without treading on them. ‘ Little Inu broke them yester- 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 219 


day,’ she explained ‘ when he was pretending to drive out 
the Old Year’s demons, and I am mending them.’ She was 
evidently in great trouble. ‘ What a tiresome child he is,’ 
said Genji. ‘I will get them mended for you. Come, you 
must not cry on New Year’s Day,’ and he went out. Many of 
the servants had collected at the end of the corridor to see 
him starting out for the Court in all his splendour. Murasaki 
too went out and watched him. When she came back she 
put a grand dress on one of her dolls and did a performance 
with it which she called ‘ Prince Genji visiting the Emperor.’ 
‘This year,’ said Shonagon, looking on with disapproval, 
“you must really try not to be such a baby. It is time 
little girls stopped playing with dolls when they are ten 
years old, and now that you have got a kind gentleman 
wanting to be your husband you ought to try and show him 
that you can behave like a nice little grown-up lady or he 
will get tired of waiting.’ She said this because she thought 
that it must be painful for Genji to see the child still so intent 
upon her games and be thus reminded that she was a mere 
baby. Heradmonishment had the effect of making Murasaki 
for the first time aware that Genji was to be her husband. 
She knew all about husbands. Many of the maid-servants 
had them, but such ugly ones! She was very glad that hers 
was so much younger and handsomer. Nevertheless the 
mere fact that she thought about the matter at all showed 
that she was beginning to grow up a little. Her childish 
ways and appearance were by no means so great a misfortune 
as Shonagon supposed, for they went a long way towards 
allaying the suspicions which the child’s presence might 
otherwise have aroused in Genji’s somewhat puzzled 
household. 

When he returned from Court he went straight to the 
Great Hall. Aoi was as perfect as ever, and just as 
unfriendly. This never failed to wound Genji. ‘If only 


220 THE TALE OF GENJI 


you had changed with the New Year, had become a little 
less cold and forbidding, how happy I should be!’ he 
exclaimed. But she had heard that someone was living 
with him and had at once made up her mind that she herself 
had been utterly supplanted and put aside. Hence she was 
more sullen than ever; but he pretended not to notice it 
and by his gaiety and gentleness at last induced her to answer 
when he spoke. Was it her being four years older than 
him that made her seem so unapproachable, so exasperatingly 
well-regulated ? But that was not fair. What fault could 
he possibly find in her? She was perfect in every respect 
and he realized that if she was sometimes out of humour 
this was solely the result of his own irregularities. She was 
after all the daughter of a Minister, and of the Minister 
who above all others enjoyed the greatest influence and 
esteem. She was the only child of the Emperor’s sister and — 
had been brought up with a full sense of her own dignity 
and importance. The least slight, the merest hint of disre- 
spect came to her as a complete surprise. To Genji all these 
pretensions naturally seemed somewhat exaggerated and his 
failure to make allowances for them increased her hostility. 

Aoi’s father was vexed by Genji’s seeming fickleness, 
but so soon as he was with him he forgot all his grievances 
and was always extremely nice to him. When Genji was 
leaving next day his father-in-law came to his room and 
helped him to dress, bringing in his own hands a belt which 
was an heirloom famous far and wide. He pulled straight 
the back of Genji’s robe which had become a little crumpled, 
and indeed short of bringing him his shoes performed in 
the friendliest way every possible small service. ‘ This,’ 
said Genji handing back the belt, ‘is for Imperial banquets 
or other great occasions of that kind.’ ‘I have others much 
more valuable,’ said the Minister, ‘ which I will give you 
for the Imperial banquets. This one is not of much account 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 221 


save that the workmanship of it is rather unusual,’ and 
despite Genji’s protests he insisted upon buckling it round 
him. The performance of such services was his principal 
interest in life. What did it matter if Genji was rather 
irregular in his visits? To have so agreeable a young man 
going in and out of one’s house at all was the greatest pleasure 
he could imagine, 

Genji did not pay many New Year’s visits. First he went 
to the Emperor, then the Heir Apparent and the 
Ex-Emperor, and after that to Princess Fujitsubo’s house 
in the Third Ward. As they saw him enter the servants of 
the house noticed how much he had grown and altered in 
the last year. ‘ Look how he has filled out,’ they said, 
“even since his last visit!’ Of the Princess herself he was 
only allowed a distant glimpse. It gave him many fore- 
bodings. Her child had been expected in the twelfth month 
and her condition was now causing some anxiety. That 
it would at any rate be born some time during the first 
weeks of the New Year was confidently assumed by her 
own people and had been stated at Court. But the first 
month went by and still nothing happened. It began 
to be rumoured that she was suffering from some kind of 
possession or delusion. She herself grew very depressed ; 
she felt certain that when the event at last happened she 
would not survive it and she worried so much about herself 
that she became seriously ill. The delay made Genji more 
certain than ever of his own responsibility and he arranged 
secretly for prayers on her behalf to be said in all the great 
temples. He had already become firmly convinced that 
whatever might happen concerning the child Fujitsubo was 
herself utterly doomed when he heard that about the tenth 
day of the second month she had successfully given birth 
toa boy. The news brought great satisfaction both to the 
Emperor and the whole court. 


222 THE TALE OF GENJI 


The Emperor’s fervent prayers for her life and for that 
of a child which she knew was not his, distressed and 
embarrassed her; whereas, when the maliciously gloomy 
prognostications of Kokiden and the rest were brought 
to her notice, she was at once filled with a perverse desire to 
disappoint their hopes and make them look ridiculous in 
the eyes of those to whom they had confided their 
forebodings. By a great effort of will she threw off the 
despair which had been weighing down upon her and began 
little by little to recover her usual vigour. 

The Emperor was impatient to see Fujitsubo’s child and 
so too (though he was forced to conceal his interest in the 
matter) was Genji himself. Accordingly he went to her 
palace when there were not many people about and sent in 
a note offering as the Emperor was in such a state of 
impatience to see the child and etiquette forbade him to 
do so for several weeks, to look at the child himself and 
report upon its appearance to the Emperor, She replied 
that she would rather he saw it on a day when it was less 
peevish ; but in reality her refusal had nothing to do with 
the state of the child’s temper ; she could not bear the idea 
of his seeing it at all. Already it bore an astonishing 
resemblance to him; of that she was convinced. Always 
there lurked in her heart the torturing demon of fear. Soon 
others would see the child and instantly know with absolute 
certainty the secret of her swift transgression. What 
charity towards such a crime as this would a world have 
that gossips if a single hair is awry? Such thoughts con- 
tinually tormented her and she again became weary of 
her life.. 

From time to time he saw Omydbu, but though he still 
implored her to arrange a meeting none of his many argu- 
ments availed him. He also pestered her with so many 
questions about the child that she exclaimed at last: ‘ Why ~ 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 223 


do you go on plaguing me like this? You will be seeing 
him for yourself soon, when he is shown at Court.’ But 
though she spoke impatiently she knew quite well what he 
was suffering and felt for him deeply. The matter was not 
one which he could discuss except with Fujitsubo herself, 
and it was impossible to see her. Would he indeed ever 
again see her alone or communicate with her save through 
notes and messengers? And half-weeping with despair 
he recited the verse: ‘ What guilty intercourse must ours 
have been in some life long ago, that now so cruel a barrier 
should be set between us?’ Omydbu seeing that it cost 
her mistress a great struggle to do without him was at pains 
not to dismiss him too unkindly and answered with the 
verse: ‘Should you see the child my lady would be in 
torment ; and because you have not seen it you are full of 
lamentations. Truly have children been called a black 
darkness that leads the parents’ heart astray!’ And 
coming closer she whispered to him ‘ Poor souls, it is a hard 
fate that has overtaken you both.’ Thus many times and 
again he returned to his house desperate. Fujitsubo 
meanwhile, fearing lest Genji’s continual visits should 
attract notice, began to suspect that Omydbu was secretly 
encouraging him and no longer felt the same affection for 
her. She did not want this to be noticed and tried to 
treat her just as usual; but her irritation was bound some- 
times to betray itself and Omydbu, feeling that her mistress 
was estranged from her and at a loss to find any reason 
for it, was very miserable. 

It was not till its fourth month that the child was brought 
to the Palace. It was large for its age and had already 
begun to take a great interest in what went on around it, 
Its extraordinary resemblance to Genji was not remarked 

upon by the Emperor who had an idea that handsome 
_ children were all very much alike at that age. He became 


224 THE TALE OF GENJI 


intensely devoted to the child and lavished every kind of 
care and attention uponit. For Genji himself he had always 
had so great a partiality that, had it not been for popular 
opposition, he would certainly have installed him as Heir 
Apparent. That he had not been able to do so constantly 
distressed him. To have produced so magnificent a son and 
be obliged to watch him growing up a mere nobleman had | 
always been galling to him. Now in his old age a son had 
been born to him who promised to be equally handsome and 
had not the tiresome disadvantage of a plebeian mother, 
and upon this flawless pearl he expended his whole affection. 
The mother saw little chance of this rapture continuing 
and was all this while in a state of agonized appre- 
hension, 7 

One day, when as he had been wont to do before, Genji 
was making music for her at the Emperor’s command, 
His Majesty took the child in his arms saying to Genji: 
‘IT have had many children, but you were the only other 
one that I ever behaved about in this fashion. It may be 
my fancy, but it seems to me this child is exactly like what 
you were at the same age. However, I suppose all babies 
are very much alike while they are as small as this,’ and he 
looked at the fine child with admiration. A succession of 
violent emotions—terror, shame, pride and love—passed 
through Genji’s breast while these words were being spoken, 
and were reflected in his rapidly changing colour. He was 
almost in tears. The child looked so exquisitely beautiful 
as it lay crowing to itself and smiling that, hideous as the 
situation was, Genji could not help feeling glad itwas thought ~ 
to be like him. Fujitsubo meanwhile was in a state of — 
embarrassment and agitation so painful that a cold sweat 
broke out upon her while she sat by. For Genji this jarring 
of opposite emotions was too much to be borne and he 
went home. Here he lay tossing on his bed and, unable te 








THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 225 


distract himself, he determined after a while to go to the 
Great Hall. As he passed by the flower-beds in front of his 
house he noticed that a faint tinge of green was already 
filming the bushes and under them the tokonatsu! were 
already in bloom. He plucked one and sent it to Omyébu 
with a long letter and an acrostic poem in which he said 
that he was touched by the likeness of this flower to the 
child, but also hinted that he was perturbed by the child’s 
likeness to himself. ‘In this flower,’ he continued 
despondently, ‘I had hoped to see your beauty enshrined. 
But now I know that being mine yet not mine it can bring 
me no comfort to look upon it.’ After waiting a little while 
till a favourable moment should arise Omyébu showed her 
mistress the letter, saying with a sigh ‘ I fear that your answer 
will be but dust to the petals of this thirsting flower.’ But 
Fujitsubo, in whose heart also the new spring was awakening 
a host of tender thoughts, wrote in answer the poem: 
‘Though it alone be the cause that these poor sleeves are 
wet with dew, yet goes my heart still with it, this child-flower 
of Yamato Land.’ This was all and it was roughly scribbled 
in a faint hand, but it was a comfort to Omydébu to have 
even such a message as this to bring back. Genji knew quite 
well that it could lead to nothing. How many times had 
she sent him such messages before! Yet ashe lay dejectedly 
gazing at the note, the mere sight of her handwriting soon 
stirred in him a frenzy of unreasoning excitement and 
delight. For a while he lay restlessly tossing on his bed. 
At last unable to remain any longer inactive he sprang 
up and went, as he had so often done before, to the western 
wing to seek distraction from the agitated thoughts which 
pursued him. He came towards the women’s apartments 
ath his hair loose upon his shoulders, wearing a queer 
‘vessing-gown and, in order to amuse Murasaki, playing a 


_ t Another name for the nadeshiko, ‘ Child-of-my-heart,’ see p. 58. 
15 


226 THE TALE OF GENJI 


tune on his flute as he walked. He peeped in at the door. 
She looked as she lay there for all the world like the fresh 
dewy flower that he had so recently plucked. She was 
growing a little bit spoilt and having heard some while,ago 
that he had returned from Court she was rather cross with 
him for not coming to see her at once. She did not run to 
meet him as she usually did, but lay with her head turned 
away. He called to her from the far side of the room to 
get up and come to him, but she did not stir. Suddenly 
he heard that she was murmuring to herself the lines ‘ Like 
a sea-flower that the waters have covered when a great 
tide mounts the shore.” They were from an old poern? 
that he had taught her, in which a lady complains that she 
is neglected by her lover. She looked bewitching as she 
lay with her face half-sullenly, half-coquettishly buried in 
her sleeve. ‘ How naughty,’ he cried. ‘ Really you are 
becoming too witty. But if you saw me more often perhaps 
you would grow tired of me.’ Then he sent for his zithern 
and asked her to play to him. But it was a big Chinese 
instrument 2 with thirteen strings; the five slender strings 
in the middle embarrassed her and she could not get the full 
sound out of them. Taking it from her he shifted the 
bridge, and tuning it to a lower pitch played a few chords 
upon it and bade her try again. Her sullen mood was over. 
She began to play very prettily ; sometimes, when there 
was a gap too long for one small hand to stretch, helping 
herself out so adroitly with the other hand that Genji was 
completely captivated and taking up his flute taught her 
a number of new tunes. She was very quick and grasped 
the most complicated rhythms at a single hearing. She 
had indeed in music as in all else just those talents with 
which it most delighted him that she should be endowed. 
When he played the Hosoroguseri (which in spite of its 


t Shit-i Shi 967. 2 A sd no koto. 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 227 


absurd name is an excellent tune) she accompanied him 
though with a childish touch, yet in perfect time. 

The great lamp was brought in and they began looking 
at pictures together. But Genji was going out that night. 
Already his attendants were assembled in the courtyard 
outside. One of them was saying that a storm was coming 
on. He ought not to wait any longer. Again Murasaki was 
unhappy. She was not looking at the pictures, but sat with 
her head on her hands staring despondently at the floor. 
Stroking the lovely hair that had fallen forward across her 
lap Genji asked her if she missed him when he was away. 
She nodded. ‘I am just the same,’ he said. ‘If I miss 
seeing you for a single day I am terribly unhappy. But you 
are only a little girl and I know that whatever I do you 
will not think harsh thoughts about me; while the lady 
that I go to see is very jealous and angry so that it would 
break her heart if I were to stay with you too long. But I 
do not at all like being there and that is why I just go for 
a little while like this. When you are grown up of course 
I shall never go away at all. TI only go now because if I 
did not she would be so terribly angry with me that I might 
very likely die and then there would be no one to love you 
and take care of you at all.’ He had told her all he could, 
but still she was offended and would not answer a word. 
At last he took her on his knee and here to his great 
embarrassment she fell asleep. ‘It is too late to go out 
now,’ he said after a while, turning to the gentlewomen who 
were in attendance. They rose and went to fetch his 
supper. He roused the child. ‘ Look,’ he said, ‘I did 
not go out after all.’ She was happy once more and they 
went to supper together. She liked the queer, irregular 
meal, but when it was over she began again to watch him 
uneasily. ‘If you are really not going out,’ she said, ‘ why 

t That hate kills is a fundamental thesis of the book. 


228 THE TALE OF GENJI 


do you not go to sleep at once?’ Leaving her at such a 
moment to go back to his room he felt all the reluctance 
of one who is setting out upon a long and perilous 
journey. 

It constantly happened that at the last minute he thus 
decided to stay with her. It was natural that some report 
of his new pre-occupation should leak out into the world and 
be passed on to the Great Hall. ‘ Who can it be ?’ said one 
of Aoi’s ladies. ‘ It is really the most inexplicable business. 
How can he have suddenly become entirely wrapped up in 
someone whom we had never heard the existence of before ? 
It cannot in any case be a person of much breeding or 
self-respect. Itis probably some girl employed at the Palace 
whom he has taken to live with him in order that the affair 
may be hushed up. No doubt he is circulating the story 
that she is a child merely in order to put us off the scent. 
And this opinion was shared by the rest. 

The Emperor too had heard that there was someone living 
with Genji and thought it a great pity. ‘ You are treating 
the Minister very badly,’ he said. ‘He has shown the 
greatest possible devotion to you ever since you were a mere 
baby and now that you are old enough to know better 
you behave like this towards him and his family! It is 
really most ungrateful.’ 

Genji listened respectfuliy, but made no reply. The 
Emperor began to fear that his marriage with Aoi had 
proved a very unhappy one and was sorry that he had 
arranged it. ‘I do not understand you,’ he said. ‘ You 
seem to have no taste for gallantry and do not, so far as 
I can see, take the slightest interest in any of the ladies- 
in-waiting whom one might expect you to find attractive, 
nor do you bother yourself about the various beauties who 
in one part of the town or another are now in request ; 
but instead you must needs pick up some creature from no 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 229 


one knows where and wound the feelings of others by keeping 
her as your mistress ! ’ 

Though he was now getting on in years the Emperor had 
himself by no means ceased to be interested in such matters. 
He had always seen to it that his ladies-in-waiting and 
palace-servants should be remarkable both for their looks 
and their intelligence, and it was a time when the Court was 
full of interesting women. There were few among them 
whom Genji could not by the slightest word or gesture have 
made his own. But, perhaps because he saw too much of — 
them, he did not find them in the least attractive. Suspect- 
ing this, they would occasionally experiment upon him 
with some frivolous remark. He answered so staidly 
that they saw a flirtation would be impossible and some of 
them came to the conclusion that he was rather a dull, 
prudish young man. 

There was an elderly lady-of-the-bedchamber who, though 
she was an excellent creature in every other way and was 
very much liked and respected, was an outrageous flirt. 
It astonished Genji that despite her advancing years she 
showed no sign of reforming her reckless and fantastic 
behaviour. Curious to see how she would take it he one 
day came up and began joking with her. She appeared 
to be quite unconscious of the disparity between their ages 
and at once counted him as an admirer. Slightly alarmed, 
he nevertheless found her company rather agreeable and 
often talked with her. But, chiefly because he was frightened 
of being laughed at if anyone found out, he refused to 
become her lover, and this she very much resented. One 
day she was dressing the Emperor’s hair. When this was 
over his Majesty sent for his valets and went with them into 
another room. Genji and the elderly lady were left alone 
together. She was fuller than ever of languishing airs and 
poses, and her costume was to the last degree stylish and 


230 THE TALE OF GENJI 


elaborate. ‘ Poor creature,’ he thought, ‘ How little differ- 
ence it all makes!’ and he was passing her on his way 
out of the room when suddenly the temptation to give a 
tug at her dress became irresistible. She glanced swiftly 
round, eyeing him above the rim of a marvellously painted 
summer-fan. The eyelids beneath which she ogled at him 
were blackened and sunken ; wisps of hair projected untidily 
around her forehead. There was something singularly 
inappropriate about this gawdy, coquettish fan. Handing 
her his own instead, he took it from her and examined it. 
On paper coated with a red so thick and lustrous that you 
could see yourself reflected in it a forest of tall trees was 
painted in gold. At the side of this design, in a hand 
which though out-of-date was not lacking in distinction 
was written the poem about the Forest of Oaraki.1 He made 
no doubt that the owner of the fan had written it in allusion 
to her own advancing years and was expecting him to make 
a gallant reply. Turning over in his mind how best to divert 
the extravagant ardour of this strange creature he could, 
to his own amusement, think only of another poem? about 
the same forest; but to this it would have been ill-bred 
to allude. He was feeling very uncomfortable lest some- 
one should come in and see them together. She however 
was quite at her ease and seeing that he remained silent she 
recited with many arch looks the poem: ‘Come to me in 
the forest and I will cut pasture for your horse, though it 
be but of the under leaf whose season is past.’ ‘Should I 
seek your woodland,’ he answered, ‘ my fair name would be 
gone, for down its glades at all times the pattering of hoofs 
is heard,’ and he tried to get away ; but she held him back 
saying: ‘ How odious you are! That is not what I mean 


t “So withered is the grass beneath its trees that the young colt will 
not graze there and the reapers do not come.’ 

2 ‘So sweet is its shade that all the summer through its leafy avenues 
are thronged,’ alluding to the lady’s many lovers. 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 231 


at all. Noone has ever insulted me like this before,’ and she 
burst into tears. ‘ Let us talk about it some other time,’ 
said Genji; ‘I did not mean...’ and freeing himself 
from her grasp he rushed out of the room, leaving her in 
great dudgeon. She felt indeed after his repulse prodigiously 
old and tottering. All this was seen by His Majesty who, 
his toilet long ago completed, had watched the ill-assorted 
pair with great amusement from behind his Imperial screen. 
‘I am always being told,’ he said, ‘ that the boy takes no 
interest in the members of my household. But I cannot 
say that he seems to me unduly shy,’ and he laughed. 
For a moment she was slightly embarrassed ; but she felt 
that any relationship with Genji, even if it consisted of being 
rebuffed by him in public, was distinctly a feather in her 
cap, and she made no attempt to defend herself against the 
Emperor’s raillery. The story soon went the round of the 
Court. It astonished no one more than T6 no Chij6 who, 
though he knew that Genji was given to odd experiments, 
could not believe that his friend was really launched upon 
the fantastic courtship which rumour was attributing to 
him. There seemed no better way of discovering whether 
it was conceivably possible to regard the lady in such a 
light than to make love to her himself. 

The attentions of so distinguished a suitor went a long 
way towards consoling her for her late discomfiture. Her 
new intrigue was of course carried on with absolute secrecy 
and Genji knew nothing about it. When he next met her 
she seemed to be very cross with him, and feeling sorry for 
her because she was so old he made up his mind that he must 
try to console her. But for a long while he was completely 
occupied by tiresome business of one kind and another. 
At last one very dismal rainy evening when he was strolling 
in the neighbourhood of the Ummeiden ¢ he heard this lady 


t The headquarters of the Ladies of the Bedchamber. 


232 THE TALE OF GENJI 


playing most agreeably on her lute. She was so good a 
performer that she was often called upon to play with the 
professional male musicians in the Imperial orchestra. 
It happened that at this moment she was somewhat downcast 
and discontented, and in such a mood she played with even 
greater feeling and verve. She was singing the “ Melon- 
growers Song’!; admirably, he thought, despite its 
inappropriateness to her age. So must the voice of the 
mysterious lady at O-chou have sounded in Po Chii-i’s ears 
when he heard her singing on her boat at night; and he 
stood listening. At the end of the song the player sighed 
heavily as though quite worn out by the passionate vehe- 
mence of her serenade. Genji approached softly humming 
the ‘Azumaya’: ‘ Here in the portico of the eastern house 
rain splashes on me while I wait. Come, my beloved, ~ 
open the door and let me in.’ Immediately, indeed with 
an unseemly haste, she answered as does the lady in the 
song “Open the door and come in,’3 adding the verse: 
“In the wide shelter of that portico no man yet was ever 
splashed with rain,’ and again she sighed so portentously 
that although he did not at all suppose that he alone was 
the cause of this demonstration he felt it in any case to be 
somewhat exaggerated and answered with the poem: ‘ Your 
sighs show clearly that, despite the song, you are another’s 
bride, and I for my part have no mind to haunt the loggias 
of your eastern house.’ He would gladly have passed 
on, but he felt that this would be too unkind, and seeing 
that someone else was coming towards her room he stepped 

t An old folk-song the refrain of which is ‘ At the melon-hoeing he 
said he loved me and what am I to do, what am I to do?’ 

2 The poem referred to is not the famous Lute Girl’s Song, but a much 
shorter one (Works x. 8) on a similar theme. O-chou is the modern 
Wu-ch’ang in Hupeh. 

3 In the song the lady says: ‘ The door is not bolted or barred. Come 


quickly and talk to me. Am I another’s bride, that you should be so 
careful and shy ?’ 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 238 


inside and began talking lightly of indifferent subjects, in a 
style which though it was in reality somewhat forced she 
found very entertaining. 

It was intolerable, thought T6 no Chijé, that Genji 
should be praised as a quiet and serious young man and 
should constantly rebuke him for his frivolity, while all the 
time he was carrying on a multiplicity of interesting intrigues 
which out of mere churlishness he kept entirely hidden 
from all his friends. For along while Chijo had been waiting 
for an opportunity to expose this sanctimonious imposture, 
and when he saw Genji enter the gentlewoman’s apartment 
you may be sure he was delighted. To scare him a little 
at such a moment would be an excellent way to punish him 
for his unfriendliness. He slackened his pace and watched. 
The wind sighed in the trees. It was getting very late. 
Surely Genji would soon begin to doze? And indeed he 
did now look as though he had fallen asleep. Chijo stole 
on tip-toe into the room; but Genji who was only half 
dreaming instantly heard him, and not knowing that Chijo 
had followed him got it into his head that it was a certain 
Commissioner of Works who years ago had been supposed 
to be an admirer of the lady. The idea of being discovered 
in such a situation by this important old gentleman filled 
him with horror. Furious with his companion for having 
exposed him to the chance of such a predicament: ‘ This 
is too bad,’ he whispered ‘I am going home. What 
possessed you to let me in on a night when you knew that 
someone else was coming?’ He had only time to snatch 
up his cloak and hide behind a long folding screen 
before Chiij6 entered the room and going straight up to the 
screen began in a business-like manner to foldit up. Though 
she was no longer young the lady did not lose her head in 
this alarming crisis. Being a woman of fashion she had 
on more than one occasion found herself in an equally 


284 THE TALE OF GENJI 


agitating position, and now despite her astonishment, after 
considering for a moment what had best be done with the 
intruder, she seized him by the back of his coat and with a 
practised though trembling hand pulled him away from 
the screen. Genji had still no idea that it was Chtjo. He 
had half a mind to show himself, but quickly remembered 
that he was oddly and inadequately clad, with his head-dress 
allawry. He felt that if he ran for it he would cut much too 
strange a figure as he left the room, and for a moment he 
hesitated. Wondering how much longer Genji would take 
to recognize him Chijo did not say a word but putting on 
the most ferocious air imaginable drew his sword from the 
scabbard. Whereupon the lady crying ‘ Gentlemen ! 
Gentlemen !’ flung herself between them in an attitude of 
romantic supplication. They could hardly refrain from 
bursting into laughter. It was only by day when very 
carefully painted and bedizened that she still retained 
a certain superficial air of youth and charm. But now this 
woman of fifty-seven or eight, disturbed by a sudden brawl 
in the midst of her amours, created the most astonishing 
spectacle as she knelt at the feet of two young men in their 
teens beseeching them not to die for her. Chij6 however 
refrained from showing the slightest sign of amusement 
and continued to look as alarming and ferocious as he could. 
But he was now in full view and Genji realized in a moment 
that Chijo had all the while known who he was and had 
been amusing himself at his expense. Much relieved at 
this discovery he grabbed at the scabbard from which 
Chijo had drawn the sword and held it fast lest his friend 
should attempt to escape and then, despite his annoyance 
at having been followed, burst into an uncontrollable fit 
of laughter. ‘Are you in your right mind?’ said Genji 
at last. ‘ This is really a very poor sort of joke. Do you 
mind letting me get into my cloak?’ Whereupon Chijé 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 285 


snatched the cloak from him and would not give it back. 
“Very well then,’ said Genji; ‘if you are to have my cloak 
I must have yours,’ and so saying he pulled open the clasp 
of Chiijd’s belt and began tugging his cloak from his 
shoulders. Chiij6 resisted and a long tussle followed in which 
the cloak was torn to shreds. ‘Should you now get it in 
exchange for yours, this tattered cloak will but reveal the 
secrets it is meant to hide,’ recited To no Chij6; to which 
Genji replied with an acrostic poem in which he complained 
that Chij6 with whom he shared so many secrets should 
have thought it necessary to spy upon him in this fashion. 
But neither was really angry with the other and setting their 
disordered costumes to rights they both took their departure. 
Genji discovered when he was alone that it had indeed 
upset him very much to find his movements had been 
watched, and he could not sleep. The lady felt utterly 
bewildered. On the floor she found a belt and a buckle which 
she sent to Genji next day with a complicated acrostic 
poem in which she compared these stranded properties to 
the weeds which after their straining and tugging the waves 
leave upon the shore. She added an allusion to the crystal 
river of her tears. He was irritated by her persistency but 
distressed at the shock to which she had been subjected by 
Chijo’s foolish joke, and he answered with the poem: 
‘At the antics of the prancing wave you have good cause 
to be angry; but blameless indeed is the shore on whose 
sands it lashed.’ The belt was Chiij6’s; that was plain 
for it was darker in colour than his own cloak. And as he 
examined his cloak he noticed that the lower half of one sleeve 
was torn away. What a mess everything wasin! He told 
himself with disgust that he was becoming a rowdy, a vulgar 
night-brawler. Such people, he knew, were always tearing 
their clothes and making themselves ridiculous. It was 
time to reform. 


236 THE TALE OF GENJI 


—tny 


The missing sleeve soon arrived from Chij6’s apartments 
with the message: “ Had you not better have this sewn on 
before you wear your cloak ?’ How had he managed to get 
hold of it? Such tricks were very tiresome and silly. But 
he supposed he must now give back the belt, and wrapping 
it in paper of the same colour he sent it with a riddling 
poem in which he said that he would not keep it lest he 
should make trouble between Chij6 and the lady. ‘ You 
have dragged her away from me as in the scuffle you snatched 
from me this belt,’ said Chiij6 in his answering poem, and 
added ‘ Have I not good reason to be angry with you ? ’ 

Later in the morning they met in the Presence Room. 
Genji wore a solemn and abstracted air. Chiij6 could not 
help recollecting the absurd scene of their last meeting, but 
it was a day upon which there was a great deal of public 
business to dispatch and he was soon absorbed in his duties, 
But from time to time each would catch sight of the other’s 
serious face and heavy official bearing, and then they could 
not help smiling. In an interval Chij6 came up to Genji 
and asked him in a low voice whether he had decided in 
future to be a little more communicative about his affairs. 
“No, indeed,’ said Genji; ‘ but I feel I owe you an apology 
for preventing you from spending a happy hour with the 
lady whom you had come to visit. Everything in life seems 
to go wrong.’ So they whispered and at the end each 
solemnly promised the other not to speak of the matter 
to anybody. But to the two of them it furnished a constant 
supply of jokes for a long while to come, though Genji took 
the matter to heart more than he showed and was determined 
never to get mixed up with such a tiresome creature again. 
He heard however that the lady was still much ruffled, and 
fearing that there might be no one at hand to comfort her 
he had not the heart quite to discontinue his visits. 

Chij6, faithful to his promise, did not mention the affair 


THE FESTIVAL OF RED LEAVES 287 


to anyone, not even to his sister, but kept it as a weapon of 
self-defence should Genji ever preach high morality to him 
again. | 

Such marked preference did the Emperor show in his 
- treatment of Genji that even the other princes of the Blood 
Royal stood somewhat in awe of him. But T6 no Chijé 
was ready to dispute with him on any subject, and was by 
no means inclined always to let him have his own way. He 
and Aoi were the only children of the Emperor’s sister. 
Genji, it is true, was the Emperor’s son ; but though Chiijé’s 
father was only a Minister his influence was far greater than 
that of his colleagues, and as the son of such a man by his 
marriage with a royal princess he was used to being treated 
with the greatest deference. It had never so much as 
occurred to him that he was in any way Genji’s inferior ; 
for he knew that as regards his person at least he had no 
reason to be dissatisfied ; and with most other qualities, 
whether of character or intelligence, he believed himself 
to be very adequately endowed. Thus a friendly rivalry 
grew up between the two of them and led to many diverting 
incidents which it would take too long to describe. 

In the seventh month two events of importance took 
place. An empress was appointed: and Genji was raised 
to the rank of Counsellor. The Emperor was intending very 
soon to resign the Throne. He would have liked to proclaim 
his new-born child as Heir Apparent in place of Kokiden’s 
son. This was difficult, for there was no political function 
which would have supported such a choice. fF ujitsubo’s 
relations were all members of the Imperial family? and Genji, 
to whom he might have looked for help owing to his affiliation 
with the Minamoto clan, unfortunately showed no aptitude 


t The rank of Empress was often not conferred till quite late in a 
reign. It was of course Fujitsubo whom the Emperor chose in this case. 
2 And therefore debarred from taking part in political life. 


238 THE TALE OF GENJI 


for political intrigue. The best he could do was at any rate 
to strengthen Fujitsubo’s position and hope that later on 
she would be able to exert her influence. Kokiden heard 
of his intentions, and small wonder if she was distressed and 
astounded. The Emperor tried to quiet her by pointing 
out that in a short time her son would succeed to the Throne 
and that she would then hold the equally important rank of 
Empress Mother. But it was indeed hard that the mother 
of the Heir Apparent should be passed over in favour of 
a concubine aged little more than twenty. The public 
tended to take Kodkiden’s side and there was a good deal of 
discontent. On the night when the new Empress was 
installed Genji, as a Counsellor, was among those who 
accompanied her to the Middle Palace. As daughter of a 
previous Empress and mother of an exquisite prince she 
enjoyed a consideration at Court beyond that which her new 
rank would have alone procured for her. But if it was with 
admiring devotion that the other great lords of her train 
attended her that day, it may be imagined with what fond 
yet agonized thoughts Prince Genji followed the litter in 
which she rode. She seemed at last to have been raised so 
far beyond his reach that scarce’ knowing what he did he 
murmured to himself the lines: ‘Now upon love’s dark 
path has the last shadow closed; for I have seen you 
carried to a cloud-land whither none may climb.’ 

As the days and months went by the child grew more 
and more like Genji. The new Empress was greatly 
distressed, but no one else seemed to notice the resemblance. 
He was not of course so handsome; how indeed should he 
have been? But both were beautiful, and the world was 
content to accept their beauty without troubling to compare 
them, just as it accepts both moon and sun as lovely 
occupants of the sky. 


CHAPTER VIII 
THE FLOWER FEAST 


BOUT the twentieth day of the second month the 

Emperor gave a Chinese banquet under the great 

cherry-tree of the Southern Court. Both Fujitsubo 
and the Heir Apparent were to be there. Ko6kiden, although 
she knew that the mere presence of the Empress was 
sufficient to spoil her pleasure, could not bring herself to 
forego so delightful an entertainment. After some promise 
of rain the day turned out magnificent ; and in full sun- 
shine, with the birds singing in every tree, the guests (royal 
princes, noblemen and professional poets alike) were handed 
the rhyme words which the Emperor had drawn by lot, 
and set to work to compose their poems. It was with a 
clear and ringing voice that Genji read out the word 
‘Spring’ which he had received as the rhyme-sound of his 
poem. Next came T6 no Chij6 who, feeling that all eyes 
were upon him and determined to impress himself favourably 
on his audience, moved with the greatest possible elegance 
and grace; and when on receiving his rhyme he announced 
his name, rank, and titles, he took great pains to speak 
pleasantly as well as audibly. Many of the other gentlemen 
were rather nervous and looked quite pale as they came 
forward, yet they acquitted themselves well enough. But 
the professional poets, particularly owing to the high 
standard of accomplishment which the Emperor’s and 


Heir Apparent’s lively interest in Chinese poetry had at 
239 


240 THE TALE OF GENJI 


that time diffused through the Court, were very ill at ease ; 
as they crossed the long space of the garden on their way 
to receive their rhymes they felt utterly helpless. A simple 
Chinese verse is surely not much to ask of a professional 
poet ; but they all wore an expression of the deepest gloom. 
One expects elderly scholars to be somewhat odd in their 
movements and behaviour, and it was amusing to see the 
lively concern with which the Emperor watched their 
various but always uncouth and erratic methods of approach- 
ing the Throne. Needless to say a great deal of music 
had been arranged for. Towards dusk the delightful dance 
known as the Warbling of Spring Nightingales was per- 
formed, and when it was over the Heir Apparent, remember- 
ing the Festival of Red Leaves, placed a wreath on Genji’s 
head and pressed him so urgently that it was impossible 
for him to refuse. Rising to his feet he danced very quietly 
a fragment of the sleeve-turning passage in the Wave Dance. 
In a few moments he was seated again, but even into this 
brief extract from a long dance he managed to import an 
unrivalled charm and grace. Even his father-in-law who 
was not in the best of humour with him was deeply moved 
and found himself wiping away a tear. 

‘And why have we not seen To no Chtj6 ?’ said the 
Heir Apparent. Whereupon Chijo danced the Park of 
Willow Flowers, giving a far more complete performance 
than Genji, for no doubt he knew that he would be called 
upon and had taken trouble to prepare his dance. It was 
a great success and the Emperor presented him with a 
cloak, which everyone said was a most unusual honour. 
After this the other young noblemen who were present 
danced in no particular order, but it was now so dark that 
it was impossible to discriminate between their performances. 

Then the poems were opened and read aloud. The 
reading of Genji’s verses’ was continually interrupted by 


THE FLOWER FEAST 241 


loud murmurs of applause. Even the professional poets 
were deeply impressed, and it may well be imagined what 
pride the Emperor, to whom at times Genji was a source 
of consolation and delight, watched him upon such an 
occasion as this. Fujitsubo, when she allowed herself to 
glance in his direction, marvelled that even Kodkiden could 
find it in her heart to hate him. ‘It is because he is fond 
of me; there can be no other reason,’ she decided at last 
_and the verse ‘ Were I but a common mortal who now am 
gazing at the beauty of this flower, from its sweet petals 
not long should I withhold the dew of love,’ framed itself 
on her lips, though she dared not utter it aloud. 

It was now very late and the banquet was over. The 
guests had scattered. The Empress and the Heir Apparent 
had both returned to the Palace—all was still. The moon 
_had risen very bright and clear, and Genji, heated with 
‘wine, could not bear to quit so lovely a scene. The people 
at the Palace were probably all plunged in a heavy sleep. 
On such a night it was not impossible that some careless 
person might have left some door unfastened, some shutter 
unbarred. Cautiously and stealthily he crept towards 
Fujitsubo’s apartments and inspected them. Every bolt 
was fast. He sighed; here there was evidently nothing 
to be done. He was passing the loggia of Kdokiden’s palace 
when he noticed that the shutters of the third arch were 
not drawn. After the banquet Kokiden herself had gone 
straight to the Emperor’s rooms, There did not seem to be 
anyone about. A door leading from the loggia into the 
house was standing open, but he could hear no sound within. 
“It is under just such circumstances as this that one is 
apt to drift into compromising situations,’ thought Genji. 
Nevertheless he climbed quietly on to the balustrade and 
peeped. Every one must be asleep. But no; a very 
agreeable young voice with an intonation which was cer- 
16 


242 THE TALE OF GENJI 


tainly not that of any waiting-woman or common person 
was softly humming the last two lines of the Oborozuki-yo.1 
Was not the voice coming towards him? It seemed so, 
and stretching out his hand he suddenly found that he was 
grasping a lady’s sleeve. ‘Oh, how you frightened me ? 
she cried. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Do not be alarmed,’ he whis- 
pered. ‘ That both of us were not content to miss the beauty 
of this departing night is proof more clear than the half- 
clouded moon that we were meant to meet,’ and as he 
recited the words he took her gently by the hand and led 
her into the house, closing the door behind them. Her 
surprised and puzzled air fascinated him. ‘ There is some- 
one there,’ she whispered tremulously, pointing to the 
inner room. ‘Child’ he answered, ‘I am allowed to go 
wherever I please and if you send for your friends they 
will only tell you that I have every right to be here. But 
if you will stay quietly here. .,..’ It was Genji. She 
knew his voice and the discovery somewhat reassured her, 
She thought his conduct rather strange, but she was deter- 
mined that he should not think her prudish or stiff. And so 
because he on his side was still somewhat excited after 
the doings of the evening, while she was far too young 
and pliant to offer any serious resistance, he soon got his 
own way with her. 

Suddenly they saw to their discomfiture that dawn was 
creeping into the sky. She looked, thought Genji, as 
though many disquieting reflections were crowding into 
her mind. ‘Tell me your name’ he said. ‘How can 
I write to you unless you do? Surely this is not going to 
be our only meeting?’ She answered with a poem in 
which she said that names are of this world only and he 
would not care to know hers if he were resolved that their 


: A famous poem by Oye no Chisato (ninth century) : ‘ What so lovely 
as a night when the moon though dimly clouded is never wholly lost to 
sight ’ 


THE FLOWER FEAST 243 


love should last till worlds to come. It was a mere quip 
and Genji, amused at her quickness, answered ‘ You are 
quite right. It was a mistake on my part to ask.’ And 
he recited the poem ‘ While still I seek to find on which 
blade dwells the dew, a great wind shakes the grasses of 
the level land.’ ‘If you did not repent of this meeting,’ 
he continued, ‘ you would surely tell me who you are. I[ 
do not believe that you want....’ But here he was 
interrupted by the noise of people stirring in the next room. 
_ There was a great bustle and it was clear that they would 
soon be starting out to fetch Princess K6kiden back from 
the Palace. There was just time to exchange fans in token 
of their new friendship before Genji was forced to fly pre- 
cipitately from the room. In his own apartments he found 
many of his gentlemen waiting for him. Some were awake, 
and these nudged one another when he entered the room 
as though to say ‘ Will he never cease these disreputable 
excursions?’ But discretion forbade them to show that 
they had seen him and they all pretended to be fast asleep. 
Genji too lay down, but he could not rest. He tried to 
recall the features of the lady with whom he had just spent 
so agreeable atime. Certainly she must be one of Kékiden’s 
sisters. Perhaps the fifth or sixth daughter, both of whom 
were still unmarried. The handsomest of them (or so he 
had always heard) were Prince Sochi’s wife and the fourth 
_ daughter, the one with whom T6 no Chiijo got on so badly. 
It would really be rather amusing if it did turn out to be 
Chiijo’s wife. The sixth was shortly to be married to the 
Heir Apparent. How tiresome if it were she! But at 
present he could think of no way to make sure. She had 
not behaved at all as though she did not want to see him 
again. Why then had she refused to give him any chance 
of communicating with her? In fact he worried about the 
matter so much and turned it over in his mind with such 


244 THE TALE OF GENJI 


endless persistency that it soon became evident he had fallen 
deeply in love with her. Nevertheless no sooner did the 
recollection of Fujitsubo’s serious and reticent demeanour 
come back to his mind than he realized how incomparably 
more she meant to him than this light-hearted lady. 

That day the after-banquet kept him occupied till late 
at night. At the Emperor’s command he performed on the 
thirteen-stringed zithern and had an even greater success 
than with his dancing on the day before. At dawn Fujitsubo 
retired to the Emperor’s rooms. Disappointed in his hope 
that the lady of last night would somewhere or somehow 
make her appearance on the scene, he sent for Yoshikiyo 
and Koremitsu with whom all his secrets were shared and 
bade them keep watch upon the lady’s family. When he 
returned next day from duty at the Palace they reported 
that they had just witnessed the departure of several 
coaches which had been drawn up under shelter in the 
Courtyard of the Watch. ‘ Among a group of persons who 
seemed to be the domestic attendants of those for whom 
the coaches were waiting two gentlemen came threading 
their way in a great hurry. These we recognized as Shii 
no Shésho and Uchtiben,! so there is little doubt that the 
carriages belonged to Princess Kékiden. For the rest we 
noted that the ladies were by no means ill looking and that 
the whole party drove away in three carfiages.’ Genji’s 
heart beat fast. But he was no nearer than before to 
finding out which of the sisters it had been. Supposing 
her father, the Minister of the Right, should hear anything 
of this, what a to-do there would be! It would indeed 
mean his absolute ruin. It was a pity that while he was 
about it he did not stay with her till it was a little lighter. 
But there it was! He did not know her face, but yet he 
was determined to recognize her. How? He lay on his 


t Kdkiden’s brothers: 


THE FLOWER FEAST 245 


bed devising and rejecting endless schemes. Murasaki 
too must be growing impatient. Days had passed since 
he had visited her and he remembered with tenderness how 
low-spirited she became when he was not able to be with 
her. But in a moment his thoughts had returned to the 
unknown lady. He still had her fan. It was a folding 
fan with ribs of hinoki-wood and tassels tied in a splice- 
knot. One side was covered with silverleaf on which was 
painted a dim moon, giving the impression of a moon 
reflected in water. It was a device which he had seen 
many times before, but it had agreeable associations for 
him, and continuing the metaphor of the ‘ grass on the 
moor’ which she had used in her poem he wrote on the 
fan— Has mortal man ever puzzled his head with such a 
question before as to ask where the moon goes to when she 
leaves the sky at dawn?’ And he put the fan safely away. 
It was on his conscience that he had not for a long while 
been to the Great Hall; but fearing that Murasaki too 
might be feeling very unhappy he first went home to give 
her her lessons. Every day she was improving not only 
in looks, but also in amiability of character. The beauty 
of her disposition was indeed quite out of the common. 
The idea that so perfect a nature was in his hands, to 
train and cultivate as he thought best, was very attractive 
to Genji. It might however have been objected that to 
receive all her education from a young man is likely to 
make a girl somewhat forward in her manner. 

First there was a great deal to tell her about what had 
happened at the Court entertainments of the last few days. 
Then followed her music lesson, and already it was time 
to go. ‘Oh why must he always go away so soon?’ she 
wondered sadly, but by now she was so used to it that she 
no longer fretted as she had done a little while ago. 

At the Great Hall he could, as usual, scarcely get a word 


246 THE TALE OF GENJI 


out of Aoi. The moment that he sat idle a thousand doubts 
and puzzles began to revolve in his mind. He took up his 
zithern and began to sing : 


Not softlier pillowed is my head 
That rests by thine, unloving bride, 
Than were those jagged stones my bed 
Through which the falls of Nuki stride. 


At this moment Aoi’s father came by and began to discuss 
the unusual success of the recent festivities. ‘Old as I 
am,’ he said—‘ and I mav say that I have lived to see four 
illustrious sovereigns occupy the Throne, I have never taken 
part in a banquet which produced verses so spirited or 
dancing and music so admirably performed. Talent of 
every description seems at present to exist in abundance ; 
but it is creditable to those in authority that they knew 
how to make good use of it. For my part I enjoyed myself 
so much that had I but been a few years younger I would 
positively have joined in the dancing!’ ‘ No special steps 
were taken to discover the musicians,’ answered Genji. 
‘ We merely used those who were known to the government 
in one part of the country and another as capable per- 
formers. If 1 may say so, it was Chijo’s Willow Dance 
that made the deepest impression and is likely always to 
be remembered as a remarkable performance. But if you, 
Sir, had indeed honoured us a new lustre would have been 
added to my Father’s reign.’ Aoi’s brothers now arrived 
and leaning against the balustrade gave a little concert, 
their various instruments blending delightfully. 

Fugitive as their meeting had been it had sufficed to 
plunge the lady whose identity Prince Genji was now seeking 
to establish into the depths of despair; for in the fourth 
month she was to become the Heir Apparent’s wife. Turmoil 
filled her brain. Why had not Genji visited her again ? 


THE FLOWER FEAST 247 


He must surely know whose daughter she was. But how 
should he know which daughter? Besides, her sister 
Kokiden’s house. was not a place where, save under very 
strange circumstances, he was likely to feel at all at his 
ease. And so she waited in great impatience and distress ; 
but of Genji there was no news. 

About the twentieth day of the third month her father, 
the Minister of the Right, held an archery meeting at which 
most of the young noblemen and princes were present. It 
was followed by a wistaria feast. The cherry blossom was 
for the most part over, but two trees, which the Minister 
seemed somehow to have persuaded to flower later than 
all the rest, were still an enchanting sight. He had had 
his house rebuilt only a short time ago ‘when celebrating 
the initiation of his grand-daughters, the children of K6kiden. 
It was now a magnificent building and not a thing in it 
but was of the very latest fashion. He had invited Genji 
when he had met him at the Palace only a few days before 
and was extremely annoyed when he did not appear. 
Feeling that the party would be a failure if Genji did not 
come, he sent his son Shii no Shosho to fetch him, with 
the poem: ‘ Were my flowers as those of other gardens 
never should I have veritured to summon you.’ Genji was 
in attendance upon the Emperor and at once showed him 
the message. ‘ He seems very pleased with himself and his 
flowers,’ said his Majesty with a smile; adding ‘as he has 
sent for you like this, I think you had better go. After 
all your half-sisters are being brought up at his house, and 
you ought not to treat him quite as a stranger.’ He went 
to his apartments and dressed. It was very late indeed 
when at last he made his appearance at the party. He was 
dressed in a cloak of thin Chinese fabric, white outside but 
lined with yellow. His robe was of a deep wine-red colour 
with a very long train. The dignity and grace with which 


248 THE TALE OF GENJI 


he carried this fancifully regal ! attire in a company where 
all were dressed in plain official robes were indeed remarkable, 
and in the end his presence perhaps contributed more to 
the success of the party than did the fragrance of the 
Minister’s boasted flowers. His entry was followed by 
some very agreeable music. It was already fairly late 
when Genji, on the plea that the wine had given him a 
head-ache, left his seat and went for a walk. He knew 
that his two step-sisters, the daughters of Kokiden, were 
in the inner apartments of the palace. He went to the 
eastern portico and rested there. It was on this side of the 
house that the wistaria grew. The wooden blinds were 
raised and a number of ladies were leaning out of the window 
to enjoy the blossoms. They had hung bright-coloured 
robes and shawls over the window-sill just as is done at 
the time of the New Year dancing and other gala days 
and were behaving with a freedom of allure which contrasted 
very oddly with the sober decorum of Fujitsubo’s household. 
“Iam feeling rather overpowered by all the noise and bustle 
of the flower-party ’ Genji explained. ‘I am very sorry 
to disturb my sisters, but I can think of nowhere else to 
seek refuge ...’ and advancing towards the main door 
of the women’s apartments he pushed back the curtain 
with his shoulder. ‘ Refuge indeed!’ cried one of the 
ladies laughing at him. ‘ You ought to know by now that 
it is only poor relations who come to seek refuge with the 
more successful members of their family. What pray have 
you come to bother us for?’ ‘ Impertinent creatures !’ 
he thought but nevertheless there was something in their 
manner which convinced him they were persons of some 
consequence ijn the house and not, as he at first supposed, 
mere waiting-women. A scent of costly perfumes pervaded 

t He had no right to such a costume; for though a son of the Emperor, 


he had been affiliated to the Minamoto clan and no longer counted as a 
member of the Imperial family. 


THE FLOWER FEAST 249 


the room; silken skirts rustled in the darkness. There 
could be little doubt that these were Kékiden’s sisters and 
their friends. Deeply absorbed, as indeed was the whole 
of this family, in the fashionable gaieties of the moment, 
they had flouted decorum and posted themselves at the 
window that they might see what little they could of the 
banquet which was proceeding outside. Little thinking 
_ that his plan could succeed, yet led on by delightful recol- 
lections of his previous encounter he advanced towards 
them chanting in a careless undertone the song : 


At Ishikawa, Ishikawa 
A man from Koma! took my belt away... 


But for ‘belt’ he substituted ‘fan’ and by this means 
he sought to discover which of the ladies was his friend. 
“Why, you have got it wrong! I never heard of that 
Korean’ one of them cried. Certainly it was not she. 
But there was another who though she remained silent 
seemed to him to be sighing softly to herself. He stole 
towards the curtain-of-state behind which she was sitting 
and taking her hand in his at a venture he whispered the 
poem: ‘If on this day of shooting my arrow went astray, 
‘twas that in dim morning twilight only the mark had 
glimmered in my view.’ And she, unable any longer to 
hide that she knew him, answered with the verse: ‘ Had 
it been with the arrows of the heart that you had shot, 
though from the moon’s slim bow no brightness caine 
would you have missed your mark?’ Yes, it was her 
voice. He was delighted, and yet... 


t Korea. 


CHAPTER IX 
AOI 


HE accession of the new Emperor was in many ways 

unfavourable to Genji’s position. His recent pro- 

motion! too brought with it heavy responsibilities 
which sadly interrupted the course of his hidden friendships, 
so that complaints of desertion or neglect were soon heaped 
upon him from more than one quarter; while, as though 
Fate wished to turn the tables upon him, the one being 
on earth for whose love he longed in vain had now utterly 
abandoned him. Now that the Emperor was free to live 
as he chose she was more constantly than ever at his side, 
nor was her peace any longer disturbed by the presence of 
a rival, for Kokiden resenting the old Emperor’s neglect 
now seldom left her son’s Palace. A constant succession 
of banquets and entertainments, the magnificence of which 
became the talk of the whole country, helped to enliven 
the ex-Emperor’s retirement and he was on the whole very 
well content with his new condition. His only regret 
concerned the Heir Apparent ? whose position, unsupported 
by any powerful influence outside the Palace, he regarded 
as extremely insecure. He constantly discussed the matter 
with Genji, begging him to enlist the support of the Mina- 
moto clan. Such conversations tended to be somewhat 


* We learn in Chapter XXXIV that he was made Commander of the 
Bodyguard at the age of twenty-one. He is now twenty-two. 
* Genji’s son by Fujitsubo (supposed by the world to be the Emperor’s 
child) had been made Heir Apparent. 
250 


AOI 251 


embarrassing, but they gave Genji pleasure in so far as 
they enabled him to take measures for the boy’s welfare. 

An unexpected event now occurred. Lady Rokujd’s 
daughter by her late husband Prince Zemb6 was chosen 
to be the new Vestal Virgin at Ise.t Her mother, who at 
the time when the appointment was first announced happened 
to be particularly aggrieved at Genji’s treatment of her, 
at once determined to make her daughter’s extreme youth 
a pretext for leaving the Capital and settling permanently 
at Ise. Being at the moment, as I have said, very much 
out of humour, she discussed the matter openly, making 
no secret of her real reasons for wishing to leave the City. 
The story soon reached the ex-Emperor’s ears, and sending 
for Genji he said to him ‘ The late Prince my brother was, 
as you probably know, regarded with the utmost affection 
and esteem and I am profoundly grieved to hear that your 
reckless and inconsiderate conduct has cast a slur upon his 
family. For his daughter indeed I feel as much responsible 
as if she were of my own children. I must trouble you in 
future to safeguard to the utmost of your power the repu- 
tation of these unfortunate ladies. If you do not learn 
to keep better control over your frivolous inclinations you 
will soon find yourself becoming extremely unpopular.’ 
Why should his father be so much upset over the matter ? 
And Genji, smarting under the rebuke, was about to defend 
himself when it occurred to him that the warning was not 
at all ill-merited and he maintained a respectful silence. 

‘ Affairs of this kind,’ the ex-Emperor continued, ‘ must 
be managed so that the woman, no matter who she is, need 
not feel that she has been brought into a humiliating 
position or treated in a cynical and off-hand way. Iorget 
this rule, and she will soon make you feel the unpleasant 


: An Emperor upon his succession was obliged to send one unmarried 
daughter or grand-daughter to the Shintd Temple at Ise, another to the 
Shintd Temple at Kamo. See Appendix II. 


252 THE TALE OF GENJI 


consequences of her resentment.’ ‘ Wicked as he thinks 
me already,’ said Genji to himself while this lecture -was 
going on, ‘ there is a much worse enormity of which he as 
yet knows nothing.” And stupefied with horror at the 
thought of what would ensue should his father ever discov er 
this hideous secret, he bowed and left the room. 

What the ex-Emperor had said about ruining other 
people’s reputations cut him to the quick. He realized 
that Rokujo’s rank and widowed position entitled her to 
the utmost consideration. But after all it was not he who 
had made public property of the affair; on the contrary 
he had done everything in his power to prevent its becoming. 
known. There had always been a certain condescension 
in her treatment of him, arising perhaps from the inequality 
of their ages,! and his estrangement from her was solely 
due to the coldness with which she had for a long time 
received him. That their private affairs were now known 
not only to the ex-Emperor but also presumably to the 
whole Court showed a lack of reticence which seemed to 
him deplorable. 

Among others who heard of the business was Princess 
Asagao.? Determined that she at least would not submit 
herself to such treatment she ceased to answer his letters 
even with the short and guarded replies that she had been 
in the habit of sending to him. Nevertheless he found it 
hard to believe that so gentle-mannered a creature was 
thinking unkindly of him and continued to regard her with 
devoted admiration. 

Princess Aoi when the story reached her ears was of course 
distressed by this new instance of his fickleness; but she 
felt that it was useless, now that his infidelity was open 
and unabashed, to protest against one particular injury, 


t She was seven years older than Genji. 
* Daughter of Prince Momozono. See above, p. 68. 


AOI 253 


and to his surprise she seemed to take the matter rather 
lightly. She was suffering much inconvenience from her 
condition and her spirits were very low. Her parents were 
delighted and at the same time surprised to hear of what 
was tocome. But their pleasure and that of all her friends 
was marred by grave forebodings, and it was arranged that 
prayers for her health and special services of intercession 
should be recited in all the temples. At such a time it was 
impossible for Genji to leave her and there were many who 
though his feelings had not in reality cooled towards them 
felt that they were being neglected. 

The Vestal Virgin of Kamo still remained to be selected. 
The choice fell upon Kokiden’s daughter, San no Miya. 
She was a great favourite both with her brother the new 
Emperor and with the Empress Mother. Her retirement 
from the world was a bitter blow to them; but there was 
no help for it since she alone of all the royal princesses 
fulfilled the prescribed conditions. 

The actual ritual of investiture could not be altered, but 
the Emperor saw to it that the proceedings should be 
attended with the utmost pomp and splendour; while 
to the customary ritual of the Kamo Festival he added so 
many touches that it became a spectacle of unparalleled 
magnificence. Ali this was due to his partiality for the 
Virgin Elect. 

On the day of her purification the Virgin is attended by 
a fixed number of noblemen and princes. Jor this retinue 
the Emperor was at pains to choose the best built and 
handsomest of the young men at Court; he settled what 
coloured gowns they were to wear, what pattern was to 
be on their breeches, and even on what saddles they should 
ride. By a special decree he ordered that Prince Genji 
should join this retinue, and so great was everyone’s desire 
to get a good view of the procession that long beforehand 


254 THE TALE OF GENJI 


people were getting ready special carriages with which to 
line the route. The scene along the highroad of the First 
Ward was one of indescribable excitement. Dense crowds 
surged along the narrow space allotted to them, while the 
stands which with a wealth of ingenious fancy had been 
constructed all along the route of the procession, with gay 
cloaks and shawls hung over the balustrades, were in 
themselves a spectacle of astonishing beauty. 

It had never been Aoi’s practice to be present at such 
occasions as this and in her present state of health she 
would not have dreamt of doing so had not her gentlewomen 
pressed round her saying ‘Come Madam! It will be no 
fun for us to go by ourselves and be hidden away in some 
corner. It is to see Prince Genji that all these people have 
come to-day. Why, all sorts of queer wild men from the 
mountains are here, and people have brought their wives 
and children from provinces ever so far away. If all these 
people who are nothing to do with him have taken the 
trouble to come so far, it will be too bad if you, his own 
lady, are not there!’ Overhearing this Aoi’s mother 
joined in. ‘ You are feeling much better just now,’ she 
said; ‘I think you ought to make the effort. It will be 
so disappointing for your gentlewomen....’ At the 
last minute Aoi changed her mind and announced that she 
was going. It was now so late that there was no time to 
put on gala clothes. The whole of the enclosure allotted 
for this purpose was already lined with coaches which were 
packed so close that it was quite impossible to find space 
for the large and numerous carriages of Aoi and her train. 
A number of grand ladies began to make room for her, 
backing their coaches away from a suitable space in the 
reserved enclosure. Conspicuous among the rest were two 
basket-work carriages of a rather old-fashioned pattern 
but with curtains such as are used by persons of quality, 


AOI 255 


very discreetly decked with draperies that barely showed 
beneath the curtains, yet these draperies (whether sleeve- 
favour, skirt or scarf) all of the handsomest colours. They 
seemed to belong to some exalted personage who did not 
wish to be recognized. When it was their turn to move, 
the coachmen in charge of them would not lift a finger. 
‘It is not for such as we to make way’ they said stiffly 
and did not stir. Among the attendants on both sides 
there was a number of young grooms who were already the 
worse for liquor. They were longing for a scuffle and it 
was impossible to keep them in hand. The staid and 
elderly outriders tried to call them back, but they took 
no notice. 

The two carriages belonged to Princess Rokuj6 who had 
come secretly to the festival hoping for a while to find 
distraction from her troubles. Despite the steps which 
she had taken to conceal her identity, it was at once sus- 
pected by some of Aoi’s gentlemen and they cried to the 
grooms that this was not an equipage which could be dealt 
with so high-handedly or it would be said that their lady 
was abusing her position as wife of the Lord Commander. 
But at this moment a number of Genji’s servants mingled 
in the fray. They knew Rokujo’s men by sight, but after 
a moment’s embarrassment they decided not to give 
assistance to the enemy by betraying his identity. 

Thus reinforced Aoi’s side won the day and at length 
her coach and those of all her ladies were drawn up along 
the front row, while Rokuj6’s was pushed back among a 
miscellaneous collection of carts and gigs where she could 
see nothing at all. She was vexed beyond measure not only 
at missing what she had come to see but also that despite 
all her precautions she had been recognized and (as she 
was convinced) deliberately insulted. Her shaft-rest and 
other parts of her coach as well were damaged and she was 


256 THE TALE OF GENJI 


obliged to prop it up against some common person’s carriage 
wheels. Why, she vainly asked herself, had she come among 
these hateful crowds ? She would go home at once. What 
sense was there in waiting for the procession to come? 
But when she tried to go, she found that it was impossible 
to force a way through the dense crowds. She was still 
struggling to escape when the cry went up that the procession 
was in sight. Her resolution weakened. She would wait 
till Genji had passed by. He did not see her. How should 
he, for the crowds flashed by him like the hurrying images 
that a stream catches and breaks. She realized this, yet 
her disappointment was none the less. 

The carriages that lined the route, decked and garlanded 
for this great day, were crammed to overflowing with 
excited ladies who though there was no room for them 
would not consent to be left behind. Peeping out under the 
blinds of their coaches they smiled at the great personages 
who were passing quite regardless of whether their greetings 
were acknowledged. But every now and then a smile 
would be rewarded by a quick glance or the backward turn 
of a head. Aoi’s party was large and conspicuous. He 
wheeled round as he passed and saluted its members atten- 
tively. Rider after rider again as the procession went by 
would pause in front of Aoi’s coach and salute her with 
the deepest respect. The humiliation of witnessing all this 
from an obscure corner was more than Rokuj6. could bear, 
and murmuring the lines ‘Though I saw him but as a 
shadow that falls on hurrying waters yet knew I that at 
last my hour of utmost misery was come’ she burst into 
tears. It was hideous that her servants should see her 
in this state. Yet even while she struggled with her tears 
she could not find it in her heart to regret that she had 
seen him in all his glory. 

The riders in the procession were indeed all magnificaile 


AOI 257 


apparelled, each according to his own rank; in particular 
the young noblemen chosen by the Emperor cut so brilliant 
a figure that only the lustre of Genji’s beauty could have 
eclipsed their splendour. The Commander of this Body- 
guard is not generally allotted a Palace-Officer as his special 
attendant, but as the occasion was of such importance the 
Imperial Treasurer! rode at Genji’s side. It seemed to 
those who saw so many public honours showered upon him 
that no flower of fortune could resist the favouring gale 
which blew towards his side. There were among the 
crowd women of quite good birth who had dressed in 
walking-skirts and come a long way on foot. There were 
nuns and other female recluses who, though in order to 
see anything of the procession they were obliged to endure 
being constantly pushed off their feet, and though they 
commonly regarded all such spectacles with contempt and 
aversion, were to-day declaring that they would not have 
missed it for anything. There were old men grinning 
through toothless gums, strange-looking girls with their 
hair poked away under ragged hoods and stolid peasant 
boys standing with hands raised as though in prayer, whose 
uncouth faces were suddenly transfigured with wonder and 
joy as the procession burst into sight. Even the daughters 
of remote provincial magistrates and governors who had 
no acquaintances whatever in the City had expended as 
much coquetry upon the decoration of their persons and 
coaches as if they were about to submit themselves to a 
lover’s inspection, and their equipages made a bright and 
varied show. If even these strangers were in such a taking, 
it may be imagined with what excitement, scattered here 
and there among the crowd, those with whom Genji was 
in secret communication watched the procession go by and 
with how many hidden sighs their bosoms heaved. 


t We learn later that he was a son of Iyo no Kami, 


17 


258 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Prince Momozono ! had a seat in one of the stands. He 
was amazed to see his nephew grown up into such a prodi- 
giously handsome young man and was alarmed lest soon 
the gods should cast an envious eye upon him. Princess 
Asagao could not but be touched by the rare persistency 
with which year after year Genji had pressed his suit. 
Even had he been positively ugly she would have found it 
hard to resist such importunity ; so small wonder if seeing 
him ride by in all his splendour she marvelled that she had 
held out so long. But she was determined to know him 
much better before she committed herself. The young 
waiting-women who were with her were careful to belaud 
him in extravagant terms. To the festival itself? Aoi did 
not go. The affray between her servants and those of 
Rokuj6 was soon reported to Genji. It vexed him beyond 
measure that such a thing should have occurred. That the 
exquisitely well-bred Aoi should have been in any way 
responsible for this outburst of insolent rufhanism he did 
not for a moment believe; it must be the work of rough 
under-servants who, though they had no actual instructions, 
had imbibed the notion that all was not well between the 
two houses and imagined that they would get credit for 
espousing their mistress’s cause. He knew well enough the 
unusual vanity and susceptibility of the affronted lady. 
Distressed to think of the pain which this incident must 
have caused her he hastened to her house. But her daughter, 
the Virgin Elect of Ise, was still in the house, and she made 
this a plea for turning him away after the exchange of 
a few formal words. He had the greatest possible sympathy 
for her; but he was feeling rather tired of coping with 
injured susceptibilities. 

t Father of Princess Asagao; brother of the ex-Emperor and therefore 
Genji’s paternal uncle. 


2 The clash of coaches took place at the Purification. The actual 
matsuri (Festival) takes place some days later. 


AOI 4. 259 


He could not face the idea of going straight back to the 
Great Hall. It was the day of the Kamo festival and going 
to his own palace he ordered Koremitsu to get his coach 
ready. ‘ Look at her!’ he cried smiling fondly at Murasaki 
when she appeared in all her finery surrounded by the little 
children whom he had given her for playmates, ‘ She must 
needs bring her dames to wait upon her!’ and stroking 
her lovely hair which to-day Shodnagon had dressed with 
more than usual care. ‘ It is getting rather long’ he said ; 
‘to-day would not be a bad? time to have it cut’ and 
sending for his astrologer he bade him consult his books. 
‘The maids-of-honour first!’ he cried, nodding at the 
pretty troupe of babes, and their dainty tresses were trimmed 
so as to hang neatly over their diapered holiday gowns. 
‘I am going to cut yours myself’ he said to Murasaki. 
“What a lot of it there is! I wonder how much longer it 
would have grown.’ Really it was quite hard work. 
‘People with very long hair ought to wear it cut rather 
short over the temples’ he said at last; ‘ but I have not 
the heart to crop you any closer’ and he laid the knife 
down. Sh6dnagon’s gratification knew no bounds when she 
heard him reciting the prayer with which the ceremony of 
hair-cutting should conclude, There is a sea-weed called 
miru which is used in the dressing of ladies’ hair and playing 
upon this word (which also means ‘to see’) he recited a 
poem in which he said that the miru-weed which had been 
used in the washing of her hair was a token that he would 
forever fondly watch it grow. She answered that like the 
sea-tides which visit the miru in its cleft he came but went 
away, and often her tresses unwatched by him would like 
the hidden sea-weed grow. This she wrote very prettily on 
a slip of paper and though the verse had no merit in it 
but the charm of a childish mind it gave him great delight. 


t T.e. astrologically. 


260 THE TALE OF GENJI 


To-day the crowds were as thick as ever. With great 
difficulty he managed to wedge in his carriage close to the 
Royal Stables. But here they were surrounded by some- 
what turbulent young noblemen and he was looking for 
a quieter place when a smart carriage crammed full of ladies 
drew up near by and some one in it beckoned with a fan 
to Genji’s servants. ‘ Will you not come over where we 
are?’ said one of the ladies. ‘ We will gladly make room 
for you.’ Such an offer was perhaps somewhat forward, 
but the place she had indicated was such a good one that 
Genji at once accepted the invitation. ‘I am afraid it is 
very unfair that we should take your place like this... ’ 
Genji was beginning to say politely, when one of the ladies 
handed him a fan with the corner bent down. Here he 
found the poem: ‘ This flower-decked day of meeting when 
the great god unfolds his portents in vain have 1 waited, 
for alas another is at thy side.’ Surely the handwriting 
was familiar. Yes, it was that of the ancient lady-of-the- 
bedchamber. He felt that it was time she should give up 
such pranks as this and answered discouragingly: ‘ Not 
ours this day of tryst when garlanded and passionate the 
Eighty Tribes converge.’ This put the lady out of coun- 
tenance and she replied: ‘ Now bitterly do I repent that 
for this cheating day my head is decked with flowers ; for 
in name only is it a day of meeting.’ 

Their carriages remained side by side, but Genji did not 
even draw up the side-curtains, which was a disappointment 
to more persons than one. The magnificence of his public 
appearance a few days ago was contrasted by everyone 
with the unobtrusive manner in which he now mingled 
with the crowd. It was agreed that his companion, whoever 
she might be, must certainly be some very great lady. 
Genji was afraid that his neighbour was going to prove 
troublesome. But fortunately some of her companions had 


AOI 261 


more discretion than their mistress, and out of consideration 
for the unknown sharer of Genji’s coach persuaded the 
voluble lady to restrain herself. 

Lady Rokujo’s sufferings were now far worse than in 
previous years. Though she could no longer endure to be 
treated as Genji was treating her, yet the thought of 
separating from him altogether and going so far away 
agitated her so much that she constantly deferred her 
journey. She felt too that she would become a laughing- 
stock if it was thought that she had been spurred to flight 
by Genji’s scorn; yet if at the last moment she changed 
her plans and stayed behind everyone would think her 
conduct extremely ill-balanced and unaccountable. Thus 
her days and nights were spent in an agony of indecision 
and often she repeated to herself the lines ‘ My heart like 
the fishers’ float on Ise shore is danced from wave to wave.’ ! 
She felt herself indeed swirled this way and that by 
paroxysms that sickened her but were utterly beyond her 
control. 

Genji, though it pained him that she should feel it 
necessary to go so far away did not attempt to dissuade 
her from the journey. ‘It is quite natural’ he wrote, ‘ that 
tiresome creature as I am you should want to put me 
altogether out of your head. I only beg that even though 
you see no use in it, you will let me see you once more 
before you go. Were we to meet, you would soon realize 
that I care for your happiness far more than you suppose.’ 
But she could not forget how when at the River of cleansing 
she sought a respite from the torture of her own doubt and 
indecision, rough waves had dashed her against the rocks, 
and she brooded more and more upon this wrong till there 
was room for no other thought in all her heart. 


t Kokinsht 509. 
2 The clash of the chariots at the Festival of Purification. Probably 
a quotation. 


262 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Meanwhile Princess Aoi became strangely distraught, and 
it seemed at times as though some hostile spirit had entered 
into her. The whole household was plunged into such a 
state of anxiety and gloom that Genji had not the heart 
to absent himself for more than a few hours. It was only 
very occasionally that he got even as far as his own palace. 
After all, she was his wife; moreover, despite all the diffi- 
culties that had risen between them he cared for her very 
much indeed. He could no longer disguise from himself 
that there was something wrong with her in addition to the 
discomfort which naturally accompanied her condition, and 
he was in a state of great distress. Constant rituals of 
exorcism and divination were performed under his direction, 
and it was generally agreed that all the signs indicated 
possession by the spirit of some living person. Many names 
were tried but to none of them did the spirit respond, and 
it seemed as though it would be impossible to shift it. 
Aoi herself felt that some alien thing had entered into her, 
and though she was not conscious of any one definite pain 
or dread the sense that the thing was there never for a 
moment left her. The greatest healers of the day were 
powerless to eject it and it became apparent that this was 
no ordinary case of ‘ possession ’ : some tremendous accumu- 
lation of malice was discharging itself upon her. It was 
natural that her friends should turn over in their minds 
the names of those whom Genji had most favoured. It 
was whispered that only with Lady Rokuj6 and the girl 
at the Nij6-in was he on terms of such intimacy that their 
jealousy would be at all likely to produce a fatal effect. 
But when the doctors attempted to conjure the spirit by 
the use of these names, there was no visible response. She 
had not in all the world any enemy who might be practising 
conscious! witchcraft against her. Such indispositions 


: The jealous person is unconscious of the fatal effects which his 
jealousy is producing. 


AOI 2638 


were sometimes attributed to possession by the spirit of 
some dead retainer or old family-nurse ; or again the malice 
of someone whom the Minister, Aoi’s father, had offended 
might, owing to her delicate condition, have fastened upon 
herinstead of him. Conjecture after conjecture was accepted 
and then falsified. Meanwhile she lay perpetually weeping. 
Constantly, indeed, she would break out into fits of sobbing 
so violent that her breath was stopped, while those about 
her, in great alarm for her safety, stood by in misery not 
knowing what to do. 

The ex-Emperor enquired after her continually. He even 
ordered special services to be said on her behalf, and these 
attentions served to remind her parents in what high 
estimation she was held at the Court. Not among her 
friends only but throughout the whole country the news 
of her illness caused great distress. Rokuj6 heard of her 
sufferings with deep concern. For years they had been in 
open rivalry for Genji’s favours, but even after that wretched 
affair of the coaches (though it must be admitted that this 
had greatly incensed her) she had never gone so far as to 
wish evil against the Princess. She herself was very unwell. 
She began to feel that the violent and distracting emotions 
which continually assailed her had in some subtle way 
unhinged her mind and she determined to seek spiritual 
assistance at a place some miles distant from her home. 
Genji heard of this and in great anxiety concerning her at 
once set out for the house where she was reported to be 
staying. It lay beyond the City precincts and he was 
obliged to go with the greatest secrecy.t He begged her to 
forgive him for not having come to see her for so long. 
‘I have not been having a very cheerful time ’ he said and 
gave her some account of Aoi’s condition. He wanted to 


t Members of the Imperial family were not allowed to leave the 
Capital without the consent of the Emperor 


264 THE TALE OF GENJI 


make her feel that if he had stayed away it had been from 
a melancholy necessity and not because he had found more 
amusing company elsewhere. ‘It is not so much my own 
anxiety that unnerves me as the spectacle of the appalling 
helplessness and misery into which her illness has plunged 
her wretched parents, and it was in the hope of forgetting 
for a little while all these sickroom horrors that I came to 
see you here to-day. If only just for this once you could 
overlook all my offences and be kind tome... . ’ 

His pleading had no effect. Her attitude was more 
hostile than before. He was not angry with her, nor indeed 
was he surprised. Day was already breaking when, un- 
solaced, he set out for home. But as she watched him go 
his beauty suddenly made havoc of all her resolutions and 
again she felt that it was madness to leave him. Yet what 
had she to stay for? Aoi was with child and this could 
only be a sign that he had made his peace with her. Hence- 
forward he could lead a life of irreproachable rectitude and 
if once in a way he came to make his excuse as he had come 
to-day, what purpose would that serve, save to keep ever 
fresh the torment of her desires? Thus when his letter 
came next day it found her more distraught than before: © 
‘The sick woman who for a few days past had shown some 
improvement is again suffering acutely and it is at present 
impossible for me to leave her.’ Certain that this was 
a mere excuse she sent in reply the poem ‘ The fault is 
mine and the regret, if careless as the peasant girl who 
stoops too low amid the sprouting rice I soiled my sleeve 
in love’s dark road.’ At the end of her letter she reminded 
him of the old song: ‘ Now bitterly do I repent that ever 
I brought my pitcher to the mountain well where waters 
were but deep enough to soil my sleeve.’ He looked at the 
delicate handwriting. Who was there, even among women 
of her high lineage and breeding, that could rival the 


AOI 265 


ineffable grace and elegance with which this small note was 
penned ? That one whose mind and person alike so strongly 
attracted him must now by his own act be lost to him 
forever, was a bitter thought. Though it was almost dark, 
he sat down and wrote to her: ‘ Do not say that the waters 
have but wetted your sleeve. For the shallowness is in 
your comparison only; not in my affections!’ And to 
this he added the poem: ‘’Tis you, you only who have 
loitered among the shallow pools: while I till all my limbs 
were drenched have battled through the thickets of love’s 
dark track.’ And he ended with the words: ‘ Had but 
a ray of comfort lighted the troubles of this house, I should 
myself have been the bearer of this note.’ 

Meanwhile Aoi’s possession had returned in full force ; 
she was in a state of pitiable torment. It reached Lady 
Rokuj6’s ears that the illness had been attributed by some 
to the operation of her ‘ living spirit.’ Others, she was told, 
believed that her father’s ghost was avenging the betrayal 
of his daughter. She brooded constantly upon the nature 
of her own feelings towards Aoi, but could discover in 
herself nothing but intense unhappiness. Of hostility 
towards Aoi she could find no trace at all. Yet she could 
not be sure whether somewhere in the depths of a soul 
consumed by anguish some spark of malice had not lurked. 
Through all! the long years during which she had loved and 
suffered, though it had often seemed to her that greater 
torment could not anywhere in the world exist, her whole 
being had never once been so utterly bruised and shattered 
as in these last days. It had begun with that hateful 
episode of the coaches. She ‘had been scorned, treated as 
though she had no right to exist. Yes, it was true that 
since the Festival of Purification her mind had been buffeted 
by such a tempest of conflicting resolutions that sometimes 
it seemed as though she had lost all control over her own 


266 THE TALE OF GENJI 


thoughts. She remembered how one night she had suddenly, 
in the midst of agonizing doubts and indecisions, found 
that she had been dreaming. It seemed to her that she 
had been in a large magnificent room, where lay a girl 
whom she knew to be the Princess Aoi. Snatching her by 
the arm she had dragged and mauled the prostrate figure, 
with an outburst of brutal fury such as in her waking life 
would have been utterly foreign to her. Since then she 
had had the same dream several times. How terrible! 
It seemed then that it was really possible for one’s spirit 
to leave the body and break out into emotions which the 
waking mind would not countenance. Even where some- 
one’s actions are all but irreproachable (she reflected) people 
take a malicious delight in saying nothing about the good 
he has done and everything about the evil. With what joy 
would they seize upon such a story as this! That after 
his death a man’s ghost should pursue his enemies is a 
thing which seems to be of constant occurrence, yet even 
this is taken as a sign that the dead man was of a fiendishly 
venomous and malignant character and his reputation is 
utterly destroyed. ‘ What then will become of me if it is 
thought that while still alive I have been guilty of so 
hideous a crime?’ She must face her fate. She had lost 
Genjifor ever. Ifshe were to keep any control at all over 
her own thoughts she must first of all find some way of 
putting him wholly out of mind. She kept on reminding 
herself not to think of him, so that this very resolve led 
her in the end to think of him but the more. 

The Virgin of Ise should by rights have entered upon 
her duties before the end of the year, but difficulties of 
various kinds arose and it was not till the autumn of the 
next year that she could at last be received. She was to 
enter the Palace in-the-Fields ! in the ninth month, but this 


t A temporary building erected afresh for each new Virgin a few miles 
outside Kyoto. She spent several years there before proceeding to Ise. 


AOI 267 


was decided so late that the arrangements for her second 
Purification had to be made in great haste. It was very 
inconvenient that at this crisis her mother, so far from 
superintending the preparations, spent hour after hour 
lying dazed and helpless upon her bed. At last the priests 
arrived to fetch the girl away. They took a grave view of 
the mother’s condition and gave her the benefit of their 
presence by offering up many prayers and incantations. 
But week after week she remained in the same condition, 
showing no symptom which seemed actually dangerous, 
yet all the time (in some vague and indefinite way) obviously 
very ill. Genji sent constantly to enquire after her, but 
she saw clearly that his attention was occupied by quite 
other matters. Aoi’s delivery was not yet due and no 
preparations for it had been made, when suddenly there 
were signs that it was close at hand. She was in great 
distress, but though the healers recited prayer upon prayer 
their utmost efforts could not shift by one jot the spiteful 
power which possessed her. All the greatest miracle- 
workers of the land were there; the utter failure of their 
ministrations irritated and perplexed them. At last, 
daunted by the potency of their incantations, the spirit 
that possessed her found voice and, weeping bitterly, she 
was heard to say: ‘Give me a little respite; there is a 
matter of which Prince Genji and I must speak.’ The 
healers nodded at one another as though to say ‘ Now we 
shall learn something worth knowing,’ for they were con- 
vinced that the ‘ possession’ was speaking through the 
mouth of the possessed, and they hurried Genji to her 
bedside. Her parents thinking that, her end being near, 
she desired to give some last secret injunction to Genji, 
retired to the back of the room. The priests too ceased 
their incantations and began to recite the Hokkekyo! in 


« The Chinese version of the Sanskrit Saddharma Pundarika Sutra ; 
see Sacred Books of the East, Vol. 21. 


268 THE TALE OF GENJI 


low impressive tones. He raised the bed-curtain. She 
looked lovely as ever as she lay there, very big with child, 
and any man who saw her even now would have found himself 
strangely troubled by her beauty. How much the more 
then Prince Genji, whose heart was already overflowing 
with tenderness and remorse! The plaited tresses of her 
long hair stood out in sharp contrast to her white jacket. 
Even to this loose, sick-room garb her natural grace 
imparted the air of a fashionable gown! He took her hand. 
“It is terrible’ he began, ‘ to see you looking so unhappy 
... he could say no more. Still she gazed at him, but 
through his tears he saw that there was no longer in her 
eyes the wounded scorn that he had come to know so well, 
but a look of forbearance and tender concern; and while 
she watched him weep her own eyes brimmed with tears. 
It would not do for him to go on crying like this. Her 
father and mother would be alarmed; besides, it was 
upsetting Aoi herself, and meaning to cheer her he said: 
“Come, things are not so bad as that! You will soon be 
much better. But even if anything should happen, it is 
certain that we shall meet again in worlds to come. Your 
father and mother too, and many others, love you so dearly 
that between your fate and theirs must be some sure bond 
that will bring you back to them in many, many lives that 
are to be.’ Suddenly she interrupted him: ‘No, no. 
That is not it. But stop these prayers awhile. They do 
me great harm,’ and drawing him nearer to her she went 
on ‘I did not think that you would come. I have waited 
for you till all my soul is burnt with longing.’ She spoke 
wistfully, tenderly ; and still in the same tone recited the 
verse ‘ Bind thou, as the seam of a skirt is braided, this 
shred, that from my soul despair and loneliness have 
sundered.’ The voice in which these words were said was 


t The lying-in jacket, 


AOI 269 


not Aoi’s; nor was the manner hers. He knew someone 
whose voice was very like that. Who was it? Why, yes; 
surely only she,—the Lady Rokuj6. Once or twice he had 
heard people suggest that something of this kind might 
be happening; but he had always rejected the idea as 
hideous and unthinkable, believing it to be the malicious 
invention of some unprincipled scandalmonger, and had 
even denied that such ‘ possession’ ever took place. Now. 
he had seen one with his own eyes. Ghastly, unbelievable 
as they were, such things did happen in real life. Controlling 
himself at last he said in a low voice: ‘I am not sure who 
is speaking to me. Do not leave mein doubt....’ Her 
answer proved only too conclusively that he had guessed 
aright. To his horror her parents now came back to the 
bed, but she had ceased to speak, and seeing her now lying 
quietly her mother thought the attack was over, and was 
coming towards the bed carrying a basin of hot water when 
Aoi suddenly started up and bore a child. For the moment 
all was gladness and rejoicing; but it seemed only too 
likely that the spirit which possessed her had but been 
temporarily dislodged; for a fierce fit of terror was soon 
upon her, as though the thing (whatever it was) were angry 
at having been put to the trouble of shifting, so that there 
was still grave anxiety about the future. The Abbot of 
Tendai and the other great ecclesiastics who were gathered 
together in the room attributed her easy delivery to the 
persistency of their own incantations and prayers, and as 
they hastily withdrew to seek refreshment and repose they 
wiped the sweat from their brows with an expression of 
considerable self-satisfaction. Her friends who had for 
days been plunged in the deepest gloom now began to take 
heart a little, believing that although there was no apparent 
improvement yet now that the child was safely born she 
could not fail to mend. The prayers and incantations 


270 THE TALE OF GENJI 


began once more, but throughout the house there was a 
new feeling of confidence; for the amusement of looking 
after the baby at least gave them some relief from the 
strain under which they had been living for so many days. 
Handsome presents were sent by the ex-Emperor, the 
Royal Princes and all the Court, forming an array which 
grew more dazzling each night.t The fact that the child 
was a boy made the celebrations connected with his birth 
all the more sumptuous and elaborate. 

The news of this event took Lady Rokujé6 somewhat 
aback. The last report she had heard from the Great Hall 
was that the confinement was bound to be very dangerous. 
And now they said that there had not been the slightest 
difficulty. She thought this very peculiar. She had herself 
for a long while been suffering from the most disconcerting 
sensations. Often she felt as though her whole personality 
had in some way suddenly altered. It was as though she 
were a stranger to herself. Recently she had noticed that 
a smell of mustard-seed incense for which she was at a loss 
to account was pervading her clothes and hair. She took 
a hot bath and put on other clothes; but still the same 
odour of incense pursued her. It was bad enough even in 
private to have this sensation of being as it were estranged 
from oneself. But now her body was playing tricks upon 
her which her attendants must have noticed and were no 
doubt discussing behind her back. Yet there was not one 
person among those about her with whom she could bring 
herself to discuss such things and all this pent-up misery 
seemed only to increase the strange process of dissolution 
which had begun to attack her mind. 

Now that Genji was somewhat less anxious about Aoi’s 
condition the recollection of his extraordinary conversation 


t These presents (ubuyashinai) were given on the third, fifth and ninth 
nights. 


AOI 271 


with her at the crisis of her attack kept on recurring in his 
mind, and it made so painful an impression upon him that 
though it was now a long time since he had communicated 
with Rokuj6 and he knew that she must be deeply offended, 
he felt that no kind of intimacy with her would ever again 
be possible. Yet in the end pity prevailed and he sent 
her a letter. It seemed indeed that it would at present 
be heartless to absent himself at all from one who had just 
passed through days of such terrible suffering and from her 
friends who were still in a state of the gravest anxiety, and 
all his secret excursions were abandoned. Aoi still remained 
in a condition so serious that he was not allowed to see her. 
The child was as handsome an infant as you could wish to 
see. The great interest which Genji took in it and the 
zest with which he entered into all the arrangements which 
were made for its welfare delighted Aoi’s father, inasmuch 
as they seemed signs of a better understanding between 
his daughter and Genji; and though her slow recovery 
caused him great anxiety, he realized that an illness such 
as that through which she had just passed must inevitably 
leave considerable traces behind it and he persuaded himself 
that her condition was less dangerous than one might have 
supposed. The child reminded Genji of the Heir Apparent 
and made him long to see Fujitsubo’s little son again. The 
desire took such strong hold upon him that at last he sent 
Aoi a message in which he said: ‘It is a very long time 
since I have been to the Palace or indeed have paid any 
visits at all. I am beginning to feel the need of a little 
distraction, so to-day I am going out for a short while and 
should like to see you before I go. I do not want to feel 
that we are completely cut off from one another.’ So he 
pleaded, and he was supported by her ladies who told her 
that Prince Genji was her own dear Lord and that she ought 
not to be so proud and stiff with him. She feared that her 


272 THE TALE OF GENJI 


illness had told upon her looks and was for speaking to 
him with a curtain between, but this too her gentlewomen 
would not allow. He brought a stool close to where she 
was lying and began speaking to her of one thing or another. 
Occasionally she put in a word or two, but it was evident 
that she was still very weak. Nevertheless it was difficult 
to believe that she had so recently seemed almost at the 
point of death. They were talking quietly together about 
those worst days of her illness and how they now seemed 
like an evil dream when suddenly he recollected the extra- 
ordinary conversation he had had with her when she was 
lying apparently at her last gasp and filled with a sudden 
bitterness, he said to her: ‘There are many other things 
that I must one day talk to you about. But you seem very 
tired and perhaps I had better leave you.’ So saying he 
arranged her pillows, brought her warm water to wash in 
and in fact played the sick-nurse so well that those about 
her wondered where he had acquired the art. Still peerlessly 
beautiful but weak and listless she seemed as she lay motion- 
less on the bed at times almost to fade out of existence. 
He gazed at her with fond concern. Her hair, every ringlet 
still in its right place, was spread out over the pillow. Never 
before had her marvellous beauty so strangely impressed 
him. Was it conceivable that year after year he should 
have allowed such a woman to continue in estrangement 
from him? Still he stood gazing at her. ‘I must start 
for the Palace,’ he said at last; ‘ but I shall not be away 
long. Now that you are better you must try to make your . 
mother feel less anxious about you when she comes pre- 
sently;; for though she tries hard not to show it, she is 
still terribly distressed about you. You must begin now 
to make an effort and sit up for a little while each day. 
I think it is partly because she spoils you so much that 
you are taking so long to get well.’ As he left the room, 


fat 


¥ 


i 


AOI 273 


robed in all the magnificence of his court attire she followed 
him with her eyes more fixedly than ever in her life before. 
The attendance of the officers who took part in the autumn 
session was required, and Aoi’s father accompanied Genji 
to the Palace, as did also her brother who needed the 
Minister’s assistance in making their arrangements for the 
coming political year. Many of their servants went too 
and the Great Hall wore a deserted and melancholy aspect. 
Suddenly Aoi was seized with the same choking-fit as 
before and was soon in a desperate condition. This news 
was brought to Genji in the Palace and breaking off his 
Audience he at once made for home. The rest followed in 
hot haste and though it was Appointment Evening! they 
gave up all thought of attending the proceedings, knowing 
that the tragic turn of affairs at the Great Hall would be 
considered a sufficient excuse. It was too late to get hold 
of the abbot from Mount Tendai or any of the dignitaries 
who had given their assistance before. It was appalling 
that just when she seemed to have taken a turn for the 
better she should so suddenly again be at the point of death, 
and the people at the Great Hall felt utterly helpless and 
bewildered. Soon the house was full of lackeys who were 
arriving from every side with messages of sympathy and 
enquiry ; but from the inhabitants of that stricken house 
they could obtain no information, for they seemed to do 
nothing but rush about from one room to another in a state 
of frenzy which it was terrifying to behold. 

Remembering that several times already her ‘ possession ’ 
had reduced her to a trance-like state, they did not for 
some time attempt to lay out the body or even touch her 
pillows, but left her lying just as she was. After two or 
three days however it became clear that life was extinct. 

Amid the general lamentations which ensued Genji’s 


t The ceremony of investing the newly elected officials. 


18 


274 THE TALE OF GENJI 


spirit sank with the apathy of utter despair. Sorrow had 
followed too fast upon sorrow; life as he saw it now was 
but a succession of futile miseries. The messages of con- 
dolence which poured in from all the most exalted quarters 
in the Court and City merely fatigued and exasperated him. 

The warmth of the old ex-Emperor’s messages and his 
evident personal distress at Aoi’s death were indeed very 
flattering and mingled a certain feeling of gratification with 
her father’s perpetual weeping. At the suggestion of a 
friend various drastic means were resorted to in the hope 
that it might yet be possible to kindle some spark of life 
in the body. But it soon became evident, even to their 
reluctant eyes, that all this was too late, and heavy at 
heart they took the body to Toribeno. Here, in the great 
flat cremation-ground beyond the town, the horrors that 
they had dreaded were only too swiftly begun. Even in 
this huge open space there was scarcely room for the crowds 
of mourners who had come from all the great palaces of the 
City to follow behind the bier and for the concourses of priests 
who, chanting their liturgies, flocked from the neighbouring 
temples. The ex-Emperor was of course represented; so 
were the Princess Kokiden and the Heir Apparent ; while 
many other important people came in person and mingled 
with the crowd. Never had any funeral aroused so universal 
a demonstration of interest and sympathy. Her father was 
not present: “ Now in my declining years to have lost one 
who was so young and strong is a blow too staggering .. . ’ 
he said and he could no longer check the tears which he was 
striving to conceal. His grief was heart-rending. All night 
long the mournful ceremonies proceeded, but at last only 
a few pitiful ashes remained upon the pyre and in the 
morning the mourners returned to their homes. It was in 
fact, save for its grandeurs, much like any other funeral ; 
but it so happened that save in one case only death had 


AOI 275 


not yet come Genji’s way and the scenes of that day haunted 
him long afterwards with hideous persistency. 

The ceremony took place in the last week of the eighth 
month. Seeing that from Aoi’s father all the soft brightness 
of this autumn morning was hid in the twilight of despair 
and well knowing what thoughts must be passing through 
his mind, Genji came to him and pointing to the sky whis- 
pered the following verse: ‘ Because of all the mists that 
wreathe the autumn sky I know not which ascended from 
my lady’s bier, henceforth upon the country of the clouds 
from pole to pole I gaze with love.’ 

At last he was back in hisroom. He lay down, but could 
not sleep. His thoughts went back over the years that 
he had known her. Why had he been content lazily to 
assume that in the end all would go right and meanwhile 
amused himself regardless of her resentment ? Why had 
he let year after year go by without managing even at the 
very end to establish any real intimacy, any sympathy 
between them? The bitterest remorse now filled his 
heart; but what use was it? His servants brought him 
his light grey mourner’s dress and the strange thought 
floated into his mind ‘ What if I had died instead and not 
she? She would be getting into the woman-mourner’s 
deep-dyed robe, and he recited the poem: ‘ Though light 
in hue the dress which in bereavement custom bids me 
wear, yet black my sorrow as the gown thou wouldst have 
worn ;’ and as thus clad he told his rosary those about him 
noted that even the dull hues of mourning could not make 
him look peaked or drab. He read many sitras in a low 
voice, among them the liturgy to Samantabhadra as Dis- 
penser of the Dharmadhatu Samadhi, which he recited 
with an earnestness more impressive in its way than the 
dexterous intonation of the professional cleric. Next he 
visited the new-born child and took some comfort in the 


276 THE TALE OF GENJI 


reflection that she had at least left behind her this memorial 
of their love. Genji did not attempt to go even for the 
day to the Nijo-in, but remained buried in recollections 
and regrets with no other occupation save the ordering of 
masses for her soul. He did however bring himself to 
write a few letters, among them one to Rokujo. The 
Virgin Elect was already in charge of the Guardsmen of the 
Gate and would soon be passed on by them to the Palace- 
in-the-Fields. Rokuj6 accordingly made her daughter’s 
situation an excuse for sending no reply. He was now so 
weary of life and its miseries that he seriously contemplated 
the taking of priestly vows, and might perhaps have done 
so, had there not been a new bond which seemed to tie 
him irrevocably to the world. But stay, there was the 
girl Murasaki too, waiting for him in the wing of his palace. 
How unhappy she must have been during all this long time ! 
That night lying all alone within his royal curtains, though 
watchmen were going their rounds not far away, he felt 
very lonely and remembering that ‘ autumn is no time to 
lie alone,’ he sent for the sweetest voiced among the chap- 
lains of the palace. His chanting mingled with the sounds 
of early dawn was indeed of almost unendurable beauty. 
But soon the melancholy of late autumn, the murmur of 
the rising wind took possession of him, and little used to 
lonely nights he found it hard to keep his bed till morning. 
Looking out he saw that a heavy mist lay over the garden 
beds; yet despite the mist it was clear that something 
was tied to the stem of a fine chrysanthemum not far away. 
It was a letter written on dark blue paper.2 The messenger 
had left it there and gone away. ‘ What a charming idea!’ 
he was thinking when he suddenly recognized the hand. 


t Had she corresponded with someone who was in mourning, she 
would herself have become unclean and been disqualified from attending 
upon her daughter the Vestal Virgin. 

2 Used in writing to people who were in mourning. 


AOI 277 


It was from Rokujo. She began by saying she did not 
think, having regard to her daughter’s situation, that he 
would be surprised at her long delay in answering his 
previous note. She added an acrostic poem in which, 
playing upon the word chrysanthemum (Azku) she told him 
of her distress at hearing (kzku) of his bereavement. ‘ The 
beauty of the morning’ she ended, ‘ turned my thoughts 
more than ever towards you and your sorrow; that is 
why I could not choose but answer you.’ It was written 
even more elegantly than usual; but he tossed it aside. 
Her condolences wounded him, for after what he had seen 
he knew that they could not be sincere. Nevertheless he 
felt that it would be too harsh to break off all communication 
with her; that he should do so would in fact tend to 
incriminate her, and this was the last thing he desired. 
After all, it was probably not that at all which had brought 
about the disaster; maybe Aoi’s fate was sealed in any 
case. If only he had chanced never to see or hear the fatal 
operation of her spirit! As it was, argue with himself as 
he might, he doubted whether he would ever be able to 
efface the impression of what had been revealed to him at 
that hideous scene. 

He had the excuse that he was still in deep mourning 
and that to receive a letter from him would inconvenience 
her at this stage of her daughter’s Purification. But after 
turning the matter over in his mind for a long while, he 
decided that it would be unfeeling not to answer a letter 
which had evidently been written with the sole object of 
giving him pleasure and on a paper lightly tinted with 
brown he wrote: ‘ Though I have let so many days slip 

by, believe me that you have not been absent from my 
- thoughts. If I was reluctant to answer your letter, it was 
because, as a mourner, I was loath to. trespass upon the 
sanctity which now surrounds your home,eand this I trusted 


iw 
| ad 
< 


278 THE TALE OF GENJI 


that you would understand. Do not brood overmuch upon 
what has happened ; for “‘ go we late or soon, more frail 
our lives than dew-drops hanging in the morning light.” 
For the present, think ofitnomore. I say this now, because 
it is not possible for us to meet.’ 

She received the letter at her daughter’s place of pre- 
paration, but did not read it till she was back in her own 
house. Ata glance she knew at what he was hinting. So 
he too accused her! And at last the hideous conviction 
of her own guilt forced itself upon her acceptance. Her 
misery increased tenfold. 

If even Genji had reason to believe in her guilt, her 
brother-in-law, the ex-Emperor, must already have been 
informed. What was he thinking of her? Her dead 
husband, Prince Zemb6, had been the brother whom he 
had loved best. He had accepted the guardianship of the 
little girl who was now about to be consecrated and at 
his brother’s earnest entreaty had promised to undertake 
her education and indeed treat her as though she were 
his own child. The old Emperor had constantly invited 
the widowed lady and her daughter to live with him in 
the Palace, but she was reluctant to accept this offer, 
which indeed was somewhat impracticable. Meanwhile 
she allowed herself to listen to Genji’s youthful addresses 
and was soon living in constant torment and agitation lest 
her indiscretion should be discovered. During the whole 
period of this escapade she was in such a state of mingled 
excitement and apprehension that she scarcely knew what 
she was doing. In the world at large she had the reputation 
of being a great beauty and this, combined with her exalted 
lineage, brought to the Palace-in-the-Fields, so soon as it 
was known that she had repaired thither with her daughter, 
a host of frivolous dandies from the Court, who made it 
their business to force upon her their fashionable attentions 


AOI 279 


morning, noon and night. Genji heard of this and did 
not blame them. He could only think it was a thousand 
pities that a woman endowed with every talent and charm, 
should take it into her head that she had done with the 
world and prepare to remove herself to so remote a place. 
He could not help thinking that she would find Ise extremely 
dull when she got there. 

Though the masses for Aoi’s soul were now over, he 
remained in retirement till the end of the seven weeks. He 
was not used to doing nothing and the time hung heavy on 
his hands. Often he sent for T6 no Chijo to tell him all that 
was going on in the world, and among much serious informa- 
tion Chiij6 would often seek to distract him by discussing 
the strange escapades in which they had sometimes shared. 

On one of these occasions he indulged in some jokes 
at the expense of the ancient lady-of-the-bedchamber with 
whom Genji had so indiscreetly become involved. ‘ Poor 
old lady!’ Genji protested ; ‘it is too bad to make fun of 
her in this way. Please do not doit.’ But all the same he 
had to admit to himself that he could never think of her 
without smiling. Then Chij6 told him the whole story of 
how he had followed and watched him on that autumn 
night, the first after the full moon,? and many other stories 
besides of his own adventures and other people’s. But in 
the end they fell to talking of their common loss, and 
agreeing that taken all in all life was but a sad business 
they parted in tears. 

Some weeks afterwards on a gloomy wet evening Chij6 
strode into the room looking somewhat self-conscious in the 
light grey winter cloak and breeches which he was to-day 
wearing for the first time. Genji was leaning against the 
balustrade of the balcony above the main western door. 


t See p. 182. 
* Winter clothes are begun on the first day of the tenth month. 


280 THE TALE OF GENJI 


For a long while he had been gazing at the frost-clad gardens 
which surrounded the house. A high wind was blowing 
and swift showers dashed against the trees. Near to tears 
he murmured to himself the line ‘ Tell me whether her soul 
be in the rain or whether in the clouds above!’ And as 
Chij6 watched him sitting there, his chin resting upon his 
hand, he thought the soul of one who had been wedded to 
so lovely a youth would not indeed have borne quite to 
renounce the scene of her earthly life and must surely be 
hovering very near him. Still gazing with eager admiration 
Chiijo came to Genji’s side. He noticed now that though 
his friend had not in any other way abated the plainness 
of his dress, he had to-day put on a coloured sash. This 
streak of deep red showed up against his grey cloak (which 
though still a summer one? was of darker colour than that. 
which he had lately been wearing) in so attractive a way 
that though the effect was very different from that of the 
magnificent attires which Genji had affected in happier 
days, yet Chijo could not for a long while take his eyes 
off him. At last he too gazed up at the stormy sky, and 
remembering the Chinese verse which he had heard Genji 
repeat he recited the poem: ‘ Though to rain her soul be 
turned, yet where in the clouded vault of heaven is that one 
mist-wreath which is she?’ And Genji answered: ‘ Since 
she whom once we knew beyond the country of the clouds 
is fled, two months of storm and darkness now have seared 
the wintry earth below.’ 

The depth of Genji’s feeling was evident. Sometimes 


t From a poem to a dead lady, by Liu Yi-hsi (A.D. 772-842). 


I saw you first standing at the window of Yi Liang’s tower; 

Your waist was slender as the willow-trees that grow at Wu-ch‘ang. 

My finding you and losing you were both like a dream; 

Oh tell me if your soul dwells in the vain, or whether in the clouds above ! 


* A husband in mourning may not wear winter clothes. The 
mourning lasts for three months. 


% 


AOI 281 


Chijo had thought it was merely dread of the old Emperor’s 
rebukes—coupled with a sense of obligation towards Aoi’s 
father whose kindness had always been so marked and also 
towards the Princess her mother, who had cherished him with 
an unfailing patience and fondness—that had made it diffi- 
cult for him to break off a relationship which was in fact 
becoming very irksome. Often indeed Genjis apparent 
indifference to Aoi had been very painful to him. Now it 
was evident to him that she had never ceased to hold an 
important place in his affections, and this made him deplore 
more bitterly than ever the tragedy of her early death. 
Whatever he did and wherever he went he felt that a light 
was gone out of his life and he was very despondent. 

Among the withered undergrowth in the garden Genji 
found to his delight a few gentians still blossoming and 
after Chiijo was gone he plucked some and bade the wet- 
nurse Sais6 give them to the child’s grandmother, together 
with the verse: ‘ This gentian flower that lingered amid the 
withered grasses of the hedge I send you in remembrance 
of the autumn that is passed.’ ‘ Toyou’ he added ‘ it will 
seem a poor thing in contrast to the flowers that are gone.’ 
The Princess looked at her grandson’s innocent smiling face 
and thought that in beauty he was not far behind the child 
she had lost. Already her tears were pouring faster than 
a stormy wind shakes down the dry leaves from a tree, and 
when she read Genji’s message they flowed faster still. This 
was her answer: ‘ New tears, but tears of joy it brings,— 
this blossom from a meadow that is now laid waste.’ 

Still in need of some small employment to distract his 
thoughts, though it was already getting dark he began a 
letter to Princess Asagao who, he felt sure, must long ago 
have been told of his bereavement. Although it was a 
long time since he had heard from her he made no reference 
to their former friendship ; his letter was indeed so formal 


9 


282 THE TALE OF GENJI 


that he allowed the messenger to read it before he started. 
It was written on Chinese paper tinted sky-blue. With it 
was the poem ‘ When I look back upon an autumn fraught 
with diverse sorrows I find no dusk dimmed with such tears 
as I to-night have shed.’ He took great pains with his 
handwriting and her ladies thought it a shame that so elegant 
a note should remain unanswered. In the end she reached 
the same conclusion. ‘ Though my heart goes out towards 
you in your affliction,’ she answered, ‘I see no cause to 
abandon my distrust.’ And to this she added the poem 
‘Since I heard that the mists of autumn had vanished and 
left desolate winter in your house, I have thought often 
of you as I watched the streaming sky.’ This was all, and 
it was written hastily, but to Genji, who for so long had 
received no news from her, it gave as much pleasure as the 
longest and most ingenious epistle. 

It is in general the unexplored that attracts us, and 
Genji tended to fall most deeply in love with those who 
gave him least encouragement. The ideal condition for the 
continuance of his affection was that the beloved, much 
occupied elsewhere, should grant him no more than an 
occasional favour. There was one! who admirably fulfilled 
these conditions, but unfortunately her high rank and 
conspicuous position in society brought with them too many 
material difficulties. But little Murasaki was different. 
There was no need to bring her up on this principle. He had 
not during the long days of his mourning ever forgotten her 
and he knew that she must be feeling very dull without him. 
But he regarded her merely as an orphan child whose care 
he had undertaken and it was a comfort to him to think 
that here at least was someone he could leave for a little 
while without anxiously wondering all the time whether he 
would get into trouble. 


: Fujitsubo. 


AOI 2838 


It was now quite dark, and gathering the people of the 
house round the great lamp he got them to tell him stories. 
There was among them a gentlewoman named Chiinagon 
with whom he had for years been secretly in love. He still 
felt drawn towards her, but at such a time there could of 
course be no thought of any closer tie. Seeing now that he 
was looking despondent she came over to him and when 
they had talked for a while of various matters at large, 
Genji said to her: ‘ During these last weeks, when all has 
been quiet in the house, I have grown so used to the company 
of you gentlewomen that if a time comes when we can no 
longer meet so frequently, I shall miss you very much. That 
was why I was feeling particularly depressed; though 
indeed whichever way I turn my thoughts I find small matter 
for consolation!’ Here he paused and some of the ladies 
shed a few tears. At last one of them said: ‘I know, 
my Lord, how dark a cloud has fallen upon your life and 
would not venture to compare our sorrow with yours. But 
I would have you remember what it must mean to us that 
henceforward you will never . * “Do not say never’ 
answered Genjikindly. ‘Ido not forget my friends so easily 
as that. If there are any among you who, mindful of the 
past, wish still to serve in this house, they may count upon 
it that so long as I live I shall never desert them.’ And as 
he sat gazing into the lamplight, with tears a-glitter in his 
eyes, they felt they were fortunate indeed in having such 
a protector. 

There was among these gentlewomen a little orphan girl 
who had been Aoi’s favourite among all her maids. Well 
knowing how desolate the child must now be feeling he said 
to her kindly: ‘ Whose business is it now but mine to look 
after little Miss Até?’ The girl burst into tears. In her 
short tunic, darker than the dresses the others were wearing, 
with black neckerchief and dark blue breeches she was a 


284 THE TALE OF GENJI 


charming figure. ‘I hope’ continued Genji ‘ that there are 
some who despite the dull times they are likely to have in 
this house will choose, in memory of the past, to devote 
themselves to the care of the little prince whom I am leaving 
behind. If all who knew his mother are now to be dispersed 
his plight will be more wretched than before.’ Again he 
promised never to forget them, but they knew well enough 
that his visits would be few and far between, and felt very 
despondent. 

That night he distributed among these waiting-ladies 
and among all the servants at the Great Hall according to 
their rank and condition various keepsakes and trifles that 
had belonged to their young mistress, giving to each what- 
ever he thought most likely to keep her memory alive, 
without regard to his own preferences and dislikes in the 
household. 

He had determined that he could not much longer continue 
this mode of life and must soon return to his own palace. 
While his servants were dragging out his coach and his 
gentlemen assembling in front of his rooms, as though on 
purpose to delay him a violent rainstorm began, with a 
wind that tore the last leaves from the trees and swept them 
over the earth with wild rapidity. The gentlemen who had 
assembled in front of the house were soon drenched to the 
skin. He had meant to go to the Palace, then to the Nij6-in 
and return to sleep at the Great Hall. But on such a night 
this was impossible, and he ordered his gentlemen to proceed 
_ straight to the Nij6-in where he would join them subsequently. 
As they trooped off each of them felt (though none of them 
was likely to be seeing the Great Hall for by any means the 
last time) that to-day a chapter in his life was closed. Both 
the Minister and his wife, when they heard that Genji 
was not returning that night,»also felt that they had reached 
a new and bitter stage in the progress of their affliction. 


‘ oy 
’ 


AOI 285 


To Aoi’s mother he sent this letter: ‘ The ex-Emperor has 
expressed a strong desire to see me and I feel bound to go 
to the Palace. Though I shall not be absent for many days, 
yet it is now so long a time since I left this house that I 
feel dazed at the prospect of facing the great world once more. 
I could not go without informing you of my departure, but 
am in no condition to pay you a visit.’ The Princess was 
still lying with closed eyes, her thoughts buried in the 
profoundest gloom, She did not send a reply. Presently 
Aoi’s father came to Genji’s apartments. He found it 
very hard to bear up, and during the interview clung fast 
to his son-in-law’s sleeve with an air of dependence which 
was pathetic to witness. After much hesitation he began at 
last to say: ‘ We old men are prone to tears even when 
smali matters are amiss; you must not wonder then that 
under the weight of so terrible a sorrow I sometimes find 
myself breaking into fits of weeping which I am at a loss to ~ 
control. At such moments of weakness and disarray I 
had rather be where none can see me, and that is why I 
have not as yet ventured even to pay my respects to his 
Majesty your good father. If opportunity offers, I beg you 
to explain this to him. To be left thus desolate in the last 
years of life is a sore trial, a very sore trial indeed... .’ 
The effort which it cost him to say these words was distressing 
for Genji to watch and he hastened to assure the old Minister 
that he would make matters right at the Court. ‘ Though 
I do not doubt,’ he added, ‘that my father has already 
guessed the reason of your absence.’ As it was still raining 
heavily the Minister urged him to start before it grew quite 
dark. But Genji would not leave the house till he had taken 
a last look at the inner rooms. His father-in-law followed 
him. In the space beyond Aoi’s curtained seat, packed 
away behind a screen, some thirty gentlewomen all clad in 
dark grey weeds were huddled together, forlorn and tearful. 


286 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘ These hapless ladies,’ said the Minister, turning to Genji, 
‘though they take some comfort in the thought that you 
are leaving behind you one whose presence will sometimes 
draw you to this house, well know that it will never again 
be your rightful home, and this distresses them no less than 
the loss of their dear mistress. For years they had hoped 
against hope that you and she would at last be reconciled. 
Consider then how bitter for them must be the day of this, 
your final departure.’ ‘ Let them take heart’ said Genji ; 
‘for whereas while my lady was alive I would often of set 
purpose absent myself from her in the vain hope that upon 
my return I should find her less harshly disposed towards 
me, now that she is dead I have no longer any cause to shun 
this house, as soon you shall discover.’ 

When he had watched Genji drive away, Aoi’s father 
went to her bedroom. All her things were just as she had 
left them. Ona stand in front of the bed writing materials 
lay scattered about. There were some papers covered with 
Genji’s handwriting, and these the old man clasped with an 
eagerness that made some of the gentlewomen who had 
followed him smile even in the midst of their grief. The 
works that Genji had written out were all masterpieces of 
the past, some Chinese, some Japanese; some written in 
cursive, some in full script; they constituted indeed an 
astonishing display of versatile penmanship. The Minister 
gazed with an almost religious awe at these specimens of 
Genji’s skill, and the thought that he must henceforth regard 
the young man whom he adored as no longer a member of 
his household and family must at that moment have been 
very painful to him. 

Among these manuscripts was a copy of Po Chii-i’s “‘ Ever- 
lasting Wrong’! and beside the words ‘ The old pillow, 

t Murasaki quotes the line in the form in which it occurs in Japanese 


MSS. of Po Chii-i’s poem. The Chinese editions have a slightly different 
text. Cf. Giles’s translation, History of Chinese Literature, p. 172. 


AOI 287 


the old coverlet with whom shall he now share?’ Genji 
had written the poem: ‘ Mournful her ghost that journeying 
now to unfamiliar realms must flee the couch where we 
were wont to rest.’ While beside the words ‘ The white 
petals of the frost’ he had written: ‘ The dust shall cover 
this bed; for no longer can I bear to brush from it the 
nightly dew of my tears.’ 

Aoi’s ladies were gathered together in groups of two or 
three in each of which some gentlewoman was pouring out 
her private griefs and vexations. ‘No doubt, as his 
Excellency the Minister told us, Prince Genji will come to 
us sometimes, if only to see the child. But for my part I 
doubt whether he will find much comfort in such visits . . .’ 
So one of them was saying to her friends. And soon there 
were many affecting scenes of farewell between them, for 
it had been decided that for the present they were all of 
them to go back to their homes. 

Meanwhile Genji was with his father in the Palace. ‘ You 
are very thin in the face,’ said the ex-Emperor as soon as 
he saw him, ‘Iam afraid you have overtaxed your strength 
by too much prayer and fasting,’ and in a state of the deepest 
concern he at once began pressing all kinds of viands and 
cordials upon him, showing with regard to his health and 
indeed his affairs in general a solicitude by which Genji 
could not help feeling touched. 

Late that night he at last arrived at the Nijo-in. Here he 
found everything garnished and swept; his men-servants 
and maids were waiting for him at the door. All the gentle- 
women of the household at once presented themselves in 
his apartments. They seemed to have vied with one another 
which should look the gayest and smartest, and their finery 
contrasted pleasantly with the sombre and dispiriting 
attire of the unfortunate ladies whom he had left behind 
him at the Great Hall. 


288 THE TALE OF GENJI 


Having changed out of his court dress, he went at once 
to the western wing. Not only was Murasaki’s winter 
costume most daintily designed, but her pretty waiting- 
maids and little companions were so handsomely equipped 
as to reflect the greatest credit on Shonagon’s management ; 
and he saw with satisfaction that such matters might 
with perfect safety be left in her hands. Murasaki herself 
was indeed exquisitely dressed. ‘ How tall you have grown 
since last I saw you!’ he said and pulled up her little curtain- 
of-honour. He had been away so long that she felt shy 
with him and turned her head aside. But he would not 
for the world have had her look otherwise than she looked 
at that moment, for as she sat in profile with the lamplight 
falling upon her face he realized with delight that she was 
becoming the very image of her whom from the beginning 
he had loved best. Coming closer to her side he whispered 
to her: ‘Some time or other I want to tell you about all 
that has been happening to me since I went away. But it 
has all been very terrible and I am too tired to speak of it 
now, so [ am going away to rest for a little while in my own 
room. From to-morrow onwards you will have me to your- 
self all day long; in fact, I expect you will soon grow quite 
tired of me.’ 

‘So far, so good’ thought Shonagon when she heard this 
speech. But she was still very far from easy in her mind. 
She knew that there were several ladies of very great influence 
with whom Genji was on terms of friendship and she feared 
that when it came to choosing a second wife, he would be 
far more likely to take one of these than to remember her 
own little mistress ; and she was not at all satisfied. 

When Genji had retired to the eastern wing, he sent for 
a certain Lady Chiijo to rub his limbs and then went to bed. 
Next morning he wrote to the nurses of Aoi’s child and 
received from them in reply a touching account of its beauty 


AOI 289 


and progress ; but the letter served only to awaken in him 
useless memories and regrets. Towards the end of the day 
he felt very restless and the time hung heavily on his hands, 
but he was in no mood to resume his secret rovings and such 
an idea did not even occur to him. In Murasaki none of his 
hopes had been disappointed ; she had indeed grown up 
into as handsome a girl as you could wish to see, nor was she 
any longer at an age when it was impossible for him to 
become her lover. He constantly hinted at this, but she 
did not seem to understand what he meant. 

He still had plenty of time on his hands, and the whole of 
it was now spent in her society. All day long they played 
together at draughts or word-picking, and even in the course 
of these trivial pursuits she showed a quickness of mind and 
beauty of disposition which continually delighted him ; 
but she had been brought up in such rigid seclusion from the 
world that it never once occurred to her to exploit her 
charms in any more adult way. 

Soon the situation became unendurable, and though he 
knew that she would be very much upset he determined 
somehow or another to get his own way. 

There came a morning when the gentleman was already 
up and about, but the young lady was still lying a-bed. 
Her attendants had no means of knowing that anything out 
of the ordinary had happened, for it had always been 
Genji’s habit to go in and out of her room just as he chose. 
They naturally assumed that she was not feeling well and 
were glancing at her with sympathy when Genji arrived 
carrying a writing-box which he slipped behind the bed 
curtains. He at once retired, and the ladies also left the 
room. Seeing that she was alone Murasaki slowly raised 
her head. There by her pillow was the writing-box and 
tied to it with ribbon, aslender note. Listlessly she detached 
the note and unfolding it read the hastily scribbled poem : 

19 


290 THE TALE OF GENJI 


‘Too long have we deferred this new emprise, who 
night by night till now have lain but with a shift 
between.’ 

That this was what Genji had so long been wanting came 
to her as a complete surprise and she could not think why 
he should regard the unpleasant thing that had happened 
last night as in some way the beginning of a new and more 
intimate friendship between them. Later in the morning 
he came again. ‘Is something the matter with you?’ he 
asked. ‘I shall be very dull to-day if you cannot play 
draughts with me.” But when he came close to her she only 
buried herself more deeply than ever under the bedclothes, 
He waited till the room was empty and then bending over 
her he said ‘ Why are you treating me in this surly way ? 
I little expected to find you in so bad a humour this morning. 
The others will think it very strange if you lie here all day,’ 
and he pulled aside the scarlet coverlet beneath which 
she had dived. To his astonishment he found that she was 
bathed in sweat ; even the hair that hung across her cheeks 
was dripping wet. ‘No! This is too much,’ he said; 
“what a state you have worked yourself up into!’ But 
try as he would to coax her back to reason he could not get 
a word out of her, for she was really feeling very vexed 
with him indeed. ‘ Very well then,’ he said at last, ‘ if that 
is how you feel I will never come to see you again,’ and he 
pretended to be very much mortified and humiliated. 
Turning away, he opened the writing-box to see whether 
she had written any answer to his poem, but of course 
found none. He understood perfectly that her distress was 
due merely to extreme youth and inexperience, and was 
not at all put out. All day long he sat near her trying to 
win back her confidence, and though he had small success 
he found even her rebuffs in a curious way very endearing. 

At nightfall, it being the Day of the Wild Boar, the 


AOI 291 


festival cakes were served. Owing to Genji’s bereavement 
no great display was made, but a few were brought round 
to Murasaki’s quarters in an elegant picnic-basket. Seeing 
that the different kinds were all mixed up together Genji 
came out into the front part of the house and calling for 
Koremitsu said to him: ‘I want you to take these cakes 
away and bring me some more to-morrow evening; only 
not nearly so many as this, and all of one kind.? This is 
not the right evening for them.’ He smiled as he said 
these words and Koremitsu was quick-witted enough at 
once to guess what had happened.. He did not however 
think that it would be discreet to congratulate his master 
in so many words, and merely said: ‘ It is true enough that 
if you want to make a good beginning you must eat your 
cakes on the proper day. The day of the Rat is certainly 
very much to the purpose.3 Pray how many am I to bring ?’ 
When Genji answered ‘ Divide by three 4 and you will get 
the answer,’ Koremitsu was no longer in any doubt, and 
hastily retired, leaving Genji amused at the practised air 
with which he invariably handled matters of this kind. He 
said nothing to anyone, but returning to his private house 
made the cakes there with his own hands. 

Genji was beginning to despair of ever restoring her 
confidence and good humour. But even now, when she 


t On the Day of the Boar in the tenth month it was the custom to 
serve little cakes of seven different kinds, to wit: Large bean, mungo, 
dolicho, sesamun, chestnut, persimmon, sugar-starch. 

2 On the third night after the first cohabitation it was the custom to 
offer up small cakes (all of one kind and colour) to the god Izanagi and 
his sister Izanami. 

3 First, because the Rat comes at the beginning of the series of twelve 
animal signs; secondly, because ‘ Rat’ is written with a character that 
also means ‘ baby.’ 

4 The phrase which I have translated ‘ Divide by three’ also means 
“One of three,’ i.e. of the Three Mysteries (Birth, Marriage, Death). 
That is why Koremitsu was ‘ no longer in any doubt.’ But many other 
explanations of the passage have been given. It is indeed one of the 
three major difficulties enumerated by the old-fashioned Genji teachers. 


292 THE TALE OF GENJI 


seemed as shy of him as on the night when he first stole 
her from her home, her beauty fascinated him and he knew 
that his love for her in past days had been but a particle 
compared with what he had felt since yesterday. 

How strange a thing is the heart of man! For now it 
would have seemed to him a calamity if even for a single 
night he had been taken from Murasaki’s side; and only 
a little while ago. ... 

Koremitsu brought the cakes which Genji had ordered 
very late on the following night. He was careful not to 
entrust them to Shdnagon, for he thought that such a 
commission might embarrass a grown woman. Instead, he 
sent for her daughter Miss Ben and putting all the cakes 
into one large perfume-box he bade her take them secretly 
to her mistress. ‘ Be sure to put them close by her pillow, 
for they are lucky cakes and must not be left about the 
house. Promise me not to do anything silly with them.’ 
Miss Ben thought all this very odd, but tossing her head 
she answered ‘ When, pray, did you ever know me to be 
silly,’ and she walked off with the box. Being quite a young 
girl and completely innocent as regards matters of this kind 
she marched straight up to her mistress’s bed and, remem- 
bering Koremitsu’s instructions, pushed the box through 
the curtains and lodged it safely by the pillow. It seemed 
to her that there was someone else there as well as Murasaki. 
“No doubt,’ thought she ‘ Prince Genji has come as usual 
to hear her repeat her lessons.’ 

As yet no one in the household save Koremitsu had any 
knowledge of the betrothal. But when next day the box 
was found by the bed and brought into the servant's 
quarters some of those who were in closest touch with their 
master’s affairs at once guessed the secret. Where did these 
little dishes come from, each set on its own little carved 
stand ? and who had been at such pains to make these dainty 


AOI 2938 


and ingenious cakes? Shodnagon, though she was shocked at 
this casual way of slipping into matrimony, was overjoyed 
to learn that Genji’s strange patronage of her young mistress 
had at last culminated in a definite act of betrothal, and her 
eyes brimmed with tears of thankfulness and delight. All 
the same, she thought he might at least have taken the 
trouble to inform her old nurse, and there was a good deal 
of grumbling in the household generally at an outside retainer 
such as Koremitsu having got wind of the matter first. 

During the days that followed he grudged even the 
short hours of attendance which he was obliged to put in 
at the Palace and in his father’s rooms, discovering (much 
to his own surprise) that save in her presence he could no 
longer enjoy a moment’s peace. The friends whom he had 
been wont to visit showed themselves both surprised and 
offended by this unexplained neglect, but though he had 
no wish to stand ill with them he now found that even a 
remote prospect of having to absent himself from his palace 
for a single night was enough to throw him quite out of gear ; 
and all the time he was away his spirits were at the very 
lowest ebb and he looked for all the world as though he were 
sickening for some strange illness. To all invitations or 
greetings he invariably replied that he was at present in 
no fit mood for company (which was naturally taken as an 
allusion to his recent loss) or that he must now be gone, for 
someone with whom he had business was already awaiting 
him. 

The Minister of the Right was aware that his youngest 
daughter! was still pining for Prince Genji and he said 
one day to Princess Kokiden : ‘ While his wife was alive we 
were bound of course to discourage her friendship with him 
in every way we could. JBut the position is now quite 
changed and I feel that as things are there would be much 


t Oborozukiyo. See above, p. 242. 


294 THE TALE OF GENJI 


to be said for such a match.’ But Kokiden had always 
hated Genji and having herself arranged that her sister 
should enter the Palace,t she saw no reason why this plan 
should suddenly be abandoned. Indeed from this moment 
onwards she became obstinately determined. that the girl 
should be given to the Emperor and to no one else. Genji 
indeed still retained a certain partiality towards her; but 
though it grieved him to hear that he had made her unhappy 
he had not at present any spare affection to offer her. Life, 
he had come to the conclusion, was not long enough for 
diversions and experiments; henceforward he would con- 
centrate. He had moreover received a terrible warning of 
the dangers which might accrue from such jealousies 
and resentments as his former way of life had involved. 
He thought with great tenderness and concern of Lady 
Rokuj6’s distress; but it was clear to him that he must 
beware of ever again allowing her to regard him as her true 
haven of refuge. If however she would renew their friend- 
ship in quite new terms, permitting him to enjoy her company 
and conversation at such times as he could conveniently 
arrange to do so, he saw no reason why they should not 
sometimes meet. | 

Society at large knew that someone was living with him, 
but her identity was quite unknown. This was of no 
consequence ; but Genji felt that sooner or later he ought 
to let her father Prince Hyébukyo know what had become 
of her and decided that before he did so it would be best to 
celebrate her Initiation. This was done privately, but he © 
was at pains that every detail of the ceremony should be 
performed with due splendour and solemnity, and though 
the outside world was not invited it was as magnificent an 
affair as it well could be. But ever since their betrothal 
Murasaki had shown a certain shyness and diffidence in his 


t J.e. become a concubine of the Emperor. 


AOI 295 


presence. She could not help feeling sorry that after all the 
years during which they had got on so well together and 
been such close friends he should suddenly take this strange 
idea into his head, and whenever her eyes met his she 
hastily averted them. He tried to make a joke of the matter, 
but to her it was very serious indeed and weighed heavily 
upon her mind. Her changed attitude towards him was 
indeed somewhat comic; but it was also very distressing, 
and one day he said: ‘ Sometimes it seems as though you 
had forgotten all the long years of our friendship and I had 
suddenly become as new to you as at the start’ ; and while 
thus he scolded her the year drew to a close. On New 
Year’s Day he paid the usual visits of ceremony to his father, 
to the Emperor and to the Heir Apparent. Next he visited 
the Great Hall. The old Minister made no reference to the 
new year, but at once began to speak of the past. In the 
midst of his loneliness and sorrow he was so deeply moved 
even by this hasty and long deferred visit that though he 
strove hard to keep his composure it was more than he could 
compass todo. Looking fondly at his son-in-law he thought 
that the passage of each fresh year did but add new beauty 
to this fair face. They went together into the inner rooms, 
where his entry surprised and delighted beyond measure 
the disconsolate ladies who had remained behind. Next 
they visited the little prince who was growing into a fine 
child ; his merry face was indeed a pleasure to see. His 
resemblance to the Heir Apparent was certainly very striking 
and Genji wondered whether it had been noticed. 

Aoi’s things were still as she had left them. His New 
Year clothes had as in former years been hung out for hin’ 
on the clothes-frame. Aoi’s clothes-frame which stood 
empty beside it wore a strangely desolate air. A letter 
from the Princess her mother was now brought to him: 
‘To-day,’ she said, ‘ our bereavement was more than ever 


296 THE TALE OF GENJI 


present to my mind, and though touched at the news of your 
visit, I fear that to see you would but awaken unhappy 
recollections.’ ‘ You will remember,’ she continued, ‘ that 
it was my custom to present you with a suit of clothes on 
each New Year’s Day. But in these last months my sight 
has been so dimmed with tears that I fear you will think 
I have matched the colours very ill. Nevertheless I beg 
that though it be for to-day only you will suffer yourself 
to be disfigured by this unfashionable garb...’ anda 
servant held out before him a second! suit, which was 
evidently the one he was expected to wear to-day. The 
under-stuff was of a most unusual pattern and mixture 
of colours and did not at all please him; but he could not 
allow her to feel that she had laboured in vain, and at once 
put the suit on. It was indeed fortunate that he had come 
to the Great Hall that day, for he could see that she had 
counted on it. In his reply he said: ‘ Though I came with 
the hope that you would be the first friend I should greet 
at this new springtide, yet now that I am here too many 
bitter memories assail me and I think it wiser that we should 
not meet.’ To this he added an acrostic poem in which he 
said that with the mourning dress which he had just discarded 
so many years of friendship were cast aside that were he to 
come to her? he could but weep. To this she sent in answer 
an acrostic poem in which she said that in this new season 
when all things else on earth put on altered hue, one thing 
alone remained as in the months gone by—her longing for the 
child who like the passing year had vanished from their sight. 

But though hers may have been the greater grief we must 
not think that there was not at that moment very sage 
emotion on both sides. 


t In addition to the one hanging on the frame. 
2 Kiteba, ‘ were he to come,’ also means ‘ should he wear it.’ 


A.D. 
A.D. 
A.D. 


A.D. 


A.D. 


A.D. 


A.D. 


A.D. 


APPENDIX I 


978 (?) Murasaki born. 
904 (?) Marries Fujiwara no Nobutaka. 
IOOI Nobutaka dies. 


1005 (?) She becomes lady-in-waiting to the Empress 
Akiko, then a girl of sixteen. 


1007-1010 Keeps a diary, which survives. 


1008 Book I of the Tale of Genji read to the 
Emperor. | 

1025 Murasaki still at Court. 

I031 Murasaki no longer at Court and perhaps 


dead. 


APPENDIX Il 


THE VESTAL VIRGINS OF ISE AND KAmo. 


So important a part do these ladies play in the Tale of 
Genji that the reader may perhaps wish to know exactly 
what they were. I may say at the outset that I have 
used the term ‘vestal’ merely for convenience. These 
Virgins were not guardians of a sacred fire. 


Ise.—Upon the accession of a new Emperor, a princess 
-of the Imperial House (preferably a daughter of the Emperor) 
was sent to be priestess of the great Shint6 shrines at Ise. 
According to the Nihongi (Bk. V; Emperor Sijin 6th year *) 
* The gods Amaterasu and Okunidama were formerly both 
worshipped in the Emperor’s Palace Hall. But the Emperor 
Stjin was frightened of having so much divine power 
concentrated in one place. Accordingly he entrusted the 
worship of Amaterasu to the Princess Toyosuku-iri, bidding 
her carry it out in the village of Kasanui in Yamato.’ 
Subsequently Amaterasu expressed a desire to be moved 
to Ise. 

The Virgin was usually about twelve years old at the time 
of her appointment. Cases however are recorded in which 
she was an infant of one year old; or again, a woman of 
twenty-eight. Her office lasted till 


(xt) The Emperor died or resigned 

(2) She herself died or became disabled 
(3) Either of her parents died 

(4) She misconducted herself. 


1 g2 B.c. according to the usual chronology, which is however purely 


fictitious. 
298 


APPENDIX | 299 


Thus in A.D. 541 the Vestal, a certain Princess Iwane, 
misconducted herself with Prince Mubaragi and was replaced. 
The process of preparing the Virgin for her office lasted 
three years. She was first of all, after a preliminary 
Purification in running water handed over to the City guards. 
Meanwhile, just outside the Capital, a special place of puri- 
fication was built for her, called the Palace-in-the-Fields. 
After a second River Purification she took up her residence 
in this temporary Palace and stayed there till the time 
came for her to settle at Ise. Before the journey to Ise 
she was again purified in the River, and she appeared at 
the Imperial Palace to receive at the Emperor’s hands the 
‘Comb of Parting.’ No Virgin of Ise was appointed after 
1342. 


Kamo.—The Virgin of Kamo, first instituted in A.D. 818 
was a replica of the Ise Virgin. She too had her Palace-in- 
the-Fields, three years of purification, etc. The practice 
of sending a Virgin to Kamo was discontinued in 1204. 

Upon both Virgins curious speech-taboos were imposed. 
Thus they called 


death, ‘ recovery’ 

illness, ‘ taking a rest’ 
weeping, ‘ dropping salt water’ 
blood, ‘ sweat’ 

to strike, ‘ to fondle’ 

a tomb, ‘an earth heap’ 
meat, ‘ vegetables ’ 


All words connected with Buddhism were taboo. Thus 
Buddha himself was called ‘ The Centre’ ; Buddhist scrip- 
tures were called ‘stained paper’; a pagoda, ‘ araragi’ 
(meaning unknown); a temple, ‘a tile-covered place’ ; 
a priest (ironically), ‘hair-long’; a nun, ‘female hair- 
long’; fasting, ‘ partial victuals.’ 

To both Virgins was attached an important retinue of 


300 THE TALE OF GENJI 


male officials. These were appointed by the Emperor 
and no doubt acted as his agents and informers in the 
districts of Ise and Kamo. 

Probably the Ise Virgin was a very ancient institution 
which later proved useful for political ends. The Virgin 
of Kamo, who does not appear on the scene till the 
ninth century, was presumably instituted simply as a 
means of spreading Court influence. 


















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